Stubborn Love

Marty McFly

I want to go back and tell him, “Sit there, with her. Escape the world and let her lean against your shoulder.
What makes sense, if not for this?”

Belongings

Presumably a couple. She’s hiding her teary, wet eyes while he stands away. Slowly, she rubs her eyes and lips- eyes and lips like any other- and he walks back to her. They exchange a few words, pick up their belongings and leave, walking along slowly and reading signs. I guess life just goes on.

Maybe I’m wrong, maybe they’re not a couple holding on. Maybe they heard the news of someone passing. But I saw them talk, saw them painfully describe their pain. They’re hurt, and no amount of making up will do. The jitteriness of a new love will not cover these wounds. And so they’ve accepted it and walk together, reading signs with no more words shared.

I wish I was wrong, but I don’t want to be the only one in old love and old pain. On an aging bench on a railway station crowded with folks who have little, doing little, I write about my broken love in a broken world.

I can’t remember everything, the thoughts have died now. I can’t see as I used to see, but I try to recall. I try all the time even when I shouldn’t. So much fucking love, so many fucking words that weren’t enough. Words, words, words and no silences. I can’t remember the weight behind those words, but I remember them anyway. And now the silence is heavy and I can’t express anything.
Who fucked whom?

A dying love slowly fades away, taking with it everything it had ever touched and illuminated.

Perhaps Home

It gets heavier
Every time I exhale,
Things get heavier.
What have I done-

Giving us up, throwing it all away
Yanking myself off her loving clutches.
Wantonly stabbing at our hearts- just like that?

I exhale again,

And in this tiny moment
In this sliver where the dull air
Neither enters nor exits my lungs

I feel her.

I crawl into tiny spaces
At least then, I’m with her.
I’ll sit right here
And it’ll rain right out there

I’ll breathe everything out-
Guilt, remorse, naivety and
Absence

Until I feel her.
I’ll gasp for air,
But I won’t care.

Dissolve

Well what hurts,
Is not giving her a hug,
Holding her chin up,
Looking into her eyes and asking,
“Are you alright love?”
Then she’ll tell me everything.

Now the response is just a yep,
Like that explains anything at all.
Slowly, very slowly
The urge to know her days
Will creep away
And a “how are you”
Will be just that and a yep
Will mean nothing more.

Realism/ Fallacies

She’s dancing now, she’s happy. What more do I want?
To be hers, to call her mine?

Not anymore I think. We lived in our heads together, but dreaming is too hard now. Good ol’ future has snuck upon us. We lost together, or so it seems.
And thus, the future awaits, with endless possibilities.

Endless possibilities must fill me with hope, but I’m met with despair.