I
You hug me like the end of the world.
Probably because you are the end of my world.
“This can’t happen; this can’t happen; this can’t happen –”
A common refrain heard
(if you can hear over the shouting and the traffic)
in an apocalypsis movie,
(i haven’t seen the world end yet)
and a common refrain heard
(if you can hear anything over my heartbeat)
(i used to hear violins in the background)
when I realized we’re far too similar for our own good.
Some rules don’t stand breaking. This is one of them.
(you’re so strong. You don’t understand breaking.)
(if the roles were reversed, you would know how to deal with it.)
You’re like a sunset, or chocolate —
everyone loves you, but they don’t all see what you’re worth
and i can’t have you everyday.
Too much of a good thing is too difficult to get over.
I never thought anything would be difficult with you.
(This isn’t the only thing I’ve been wrong about.)
(How can you be so wrong and so right for me.)
(Is this how all the world’s bad love poetry goes.)
(There’s so much of it.)
II
I’ve been up all night trying to write you the perfect poem.
(you’ve kept me up; i have too much ego to admit it.)
It’s pretty tough.
I never thought anything would be difficult with you.
Then again, there’s nothing easy about you either.
You’re kind of like a cloud –
miles away from everything else
and always changing.
Trying to capture you means I’d have to capture the whole sky and
it still wouldn’t be enough.
This is a pretty big distance to fall for someone
and I always forget my parachute.
(but the view was brilliant, thanks for it.)
This is not my first, second or last unknown skydive –
but falling through fireworks, you learn to make the best of it.
They’re super pretty, and you don’t see them everyday.
I don’t know who is letting off these fireworks and
I don’t know why, and if you have something
to do with it, which i think you do;
thanks.
Falling for you is like falling through fireworks –
pretty sure i’ll get burnt.
But I’m going to fall and break my heart anyday anyway,
and a few burns here and there don’t matter anymore.
And I tend to go for the burning types, the ones with
their souls on fire and flaming passions, the brightest of the lot –
(notice, i don’t say beautiful. or hot.)
you’re the brightest of the lot, or at least one of them,
and i should be used to this by now.
And i want to be back in the sky but can’t even stand very tall
after realizing
if you’re a bonfire, i must be a waterfall.
III
i’m going away for a bit.
(you’re already gone and yes i have an ego and
i can’t think about you anymore.)
where i’m going and what i do makes no significant
difference to you, i’m fully aware of that.
But I need to drive for a while.
Because these feelings and fireworks are too intense for me right now.
I’m not so delusional to think that we could work –
but I am, a little, –
enough to believe that I can get in my car and drive to
a land where I might feel welcome, where every step isn’t
a landmine and every rainfall isn’t a hail of sparks.
(note : this is not the same place as home.)
I think this place is out there somewhere.
I would ask you for a map but I know what you’d say –
I need to do this myself.
(god you’re so smart. Why are you always right.)
So I’ll go, finding my own way, getting souvenirs that aren’t
different burns from different people.
A snowglobe. A diamond. Hell. Love. I don’t know what I’ll find.
I hope I see you when I’m back,
I hope I don’t need you anymore.
I’ll be stopping at a lot of places, seeing a lot of sky,
and changing how I see. Maybe changing how I be – around
you, around me, around clouds, around the friends
who’ll see the first draft of this.
I’ll get some sleep,
and stop writing so much bad love poetry.
And I know you understand extended metaphors; we’ll
still be in the same place physically.
But I’ve got places to cross –
A sky that’s bigger than you, am earth that’s
bigger than me, and a sea that’s just as wide.
I don’t know where you’ll be. If you’re waiting for me,
I’ll see you on the other side.
by Manasi Nene
Photo- http://rxcreates.tumblr.com/