Muddling and trudging, this spot once more. Sinking deep
my waist, and soon perhaps up my neck. Then maybe, I’ll
drown for real this time round. Liberated, it might be.
Again, I swear, one after another, that I have enough.
Can’t they tell that I have enough?
But he makes me think otherwise. That he is
the one I seek, for a long time too.
Can’t learn pretty from the previous that
in no good it would end? Ending it would be,
like those ones, the previous one, and the one before the previous one,
and they all go like so.
Let it end here now. No good it would end.
Could he be the one?
I could tell that I love him so, but could it
all be hearsay not? This and that, I move on quick.
Separation is not what I dwell upon. Go far away for him,
I know he would, for they all do, like grown-ups sick of their childhood teddy
bear. No longer cuddly and nice but old, foul and lame.
Why don’t he tell me what I need to hear, just something
so simple to make me his.
Stay. Just stay.
A why for I couldn’t ask you why. The questions in my mind.
Could I hug you and cry and tell you
that I didn’t want you to be like them so.
That maybe I change, from my apathy and lack of display
of affections to flourishing and nurturing,
so fully hearted, so surely it would be.
We’ll be a cute little couple, despite our age.
Dreaming into the stars and hovering along the fields.
But of course you can’t.
You have to go, you need to fly,
and maybe settle somewhere nice,
a very so cliché that I’m sick of hearing .
Nobody has stop you, and this just isn’t the place for you.
To be honest, neither is this the place for me. Maybe so,
we don’t really have a place, except for the moment now.
Stay, pray, please, don’t go. I cry but like a stone deep in the sea.
Why would you be bothered with me now? You didn’t, never did
and dear, no, you don’t have to.
I would write a love poem about you,
letting it rhyme along the days we skipping left.
All our dreams build on, day after day,
nearer and closer, perhaps till we collide
Day after day would turn into year after year,
then a lifetime of yours and mine, us for all its’ finite.
What naivety of the young. You’ve seen too much and know better, didn’t you?
For that you stand a mile apart,
no matter how I am breaking down.
But you, the only one to be, I not sure if it’s so.
Perhaps, the vulgarities of love, what woe it brings.
Just like that, for a moment more, while I still can see your smile.
Don’t, no longer be here. I’m not going to ask you to stay no more.
We dream and this is how it ends.