I tell my love to wreck it all,
cut out all the ropes and let me fall.
My my my, my, my, my my my.
Right now this order's tall.

I told you to be patient,
I told you to be fine.
I told you to be balanced,
I told you to be kind.
Now all your love was wasted?
Then who the hell was I?
I'm burning at the britches,
and at the end of all your lines.

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?

---

Now if all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I.

Yeah. That's the question, isn't it.

Isn't in just.

---

"Tonight I Can Write"


Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, "The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

---


"Love is so short, forgetting is so long."

Yes, it is. It sure as hell is.

I'm finally done gasping for air.

Lover, we missed the target, blindfolded and aiming
with our unreliable hearts. We can never trust ourselves, we’ve learnt

this much for sure.

So try me. Hit me harder, I don’t think I’m bleeding out, yet. Hit me
harder, I think I’m still breathing. Haven’t you hurt me enough,
I asked. Haven’t you hurt me enough?

No, you said. No. I want your laboured heartbeat in my
locked drawer. I want a suitcase of your love in my attic. I want
pieces of you under my bed, so easily discarded. Don’t you know, I want
to taste you broken, I want to laugh at what’s left of you,
hating me. And I said -

don’t you know, you’ll never get your wish.
I couldn’t hate you with my dying breath,

even if your hands are bloody
and you’re holding me close just to watch me slip away.

---


That's not really true. I hated him; I had moments when I hated him in ways I never thought I could. But it hurt me to feel like that... I just can't, not towards him. Not when the love of him could bring me to my knees. But then, I read once that "hate's just another word for someone you love but no longer believe in," and I've always figured it to be true.

He is definitely someone I love but no longer believe in.

Magnetic poetry wisdom:



who are you
to miss my soft rhythm
when you never
wanted to dance

Things that might go wrong today:

1. I could be hit by a bus.
2. a piece of luggage could fall from great heights and land on my head.
3. he could fall in love again.
4. and never think about me for the rest of his life.
5. everybody might hate me and by right about it.
6. I might drop my cell phone into the sewer drain.
7. and it could get carried away by rats.
8. and taken apart, and the pieces used to create a world-dominating device which spells the end of human civilisation as we know it.
9. I could lose one shoe and walk around lopsided all day.
10. someone might arrange my magnetic poetry words into hate mail and leave it on my fridge.
11. I could be so upset that I forget to drink water for days and die of dehydration.
12. I could laugh so hard that I hiccup to death.
13. a randomly placed magnifying glass could cause sunlight to burn a hole in my foot.
14. I might spontaneously combust on the way to the grocery store.
15. I could have gained seven dress sizes since the last time I tried on clothing, cleverly hidden by elastic wasitlines.
16. I could fall in love today and not be ready for it.
17. the weatherman might correctly predict hurricanes.
18. an alien race could crash land on earth.


Eighteen things for eighteen years of life. I guess I'll stop at that.

So I unblocked him on msn, today. I figured he had me blocked and deleted, and didn't really think about it... I just don't want to carry that hate around with me anymore. I figured it was another step in letting go. Until I signed in again ten minutes ago, and there he is. Online. He didn't delete me, obviously... and not only that, but unblocked me.

And I hate myself for that flicker of hope.

Don't, Steph. Just don't.

---

I was never look for you. But I found you, a liar
with strong hands, so I closed
my eyes and learnt to read music,
and didn't dream of pressing my palms against your back





for one whole year.

--

1.

oh God, it is so good
to throw snowball at your stained-glass windows,
sometimes.


2.

oh God, at night I gather him into my whisper kisses
like a prayer, and all
my cathedral promises. it is good
to love and better to love religiously. I mean,

it is better to love like snow geese, always
flying home. better always
to know where home is,

chasing warmer skies and never alone.


3.

oh God, let me press strings of christmas lights into
my skin tonight. I want so badly
to be beautiful.