Don’t ask me those questions, they don’t make sense.
I can’t answer them the way you want me to.
No no no!
Listen here, I can’t conform to that norm and condone it. I am among the weird creatures of the night that can move in absence of light and not be frightened. I don’t fear the dark, I hide in it and embrace it.
Just condemn me if you must.
So you ask why I loved him!?
No, you don’t ask that, you asked why I loved him so deeply that no edge of a sharpened arrow could reach? You ask me how I still care about him?
why i cant stand the look from him but rather avoid it like plague>
You want to know what makes him so different but I wonder if you’ll ever understand the truth.I look at you and head for the Kleenex!
I can see, if a mirror is placed before us and our visages on this hedge compared. The fudges and smudges on my face, the triple contours on yours. I can see the flames in your eyes as you stare down at my drenching ones. You shake your head, disapproving my tears and probably feeling bad. I nod mine readily like anodes in cohesion with the stabs, you’ll never understand.
You push the whole Kleenex pack at my disposal and I can’t feel my guts, the knots of my soul are tightening, I can feel the air choking me; that’s not shocking!?
I smile with my face and laugh with my tears.
‘You will never understand this Micheal!’
I tell you as a matter of facts flatly as I blew my itchy nose noisily to my joy.
‘Try me lady in Red’
Your face has mixed emotions. You don’t know whether to smile so as to encourage mine or to sympathise with me or just provoke my rage. My image poses a challenge and the moment seems paused.
I look at you direct in the eye, deeper than you can imagine and probably through you; I may not know but I understand that I couldn’t see your face before me if not just a distant feature.
You are stupid, naive, crappy or probably fucked up in an organised hell cause mine is a messy heaven.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you he was the first person to pluck me a flower and give to the girl in his band who smiled and loved the delicious scent.
You wouldn’t believe that he will hold my hand in the streets close enough to whisper the sweet charmings but distant enough to hold hers too.
You wouldn’t believe if I said he is the heart and I the beat and every time I held my breath, he never missed a beat; mine wasn’t his only beat. So how do I live without the heart.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you every time he conversed with the tender of my neck, I had to wash off black lipstick when mine was red and un-smudged. I never raised a word.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how I’d drag him to the shower for a forth time. No, don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the shower romance, I gulp down a lot of water in their; the strange perfume was suffocating me. i never wear perfume.
Of course you’d believe all that, that’s what you wanna hear.
So you blind yourself from my side of the truth!
I blink again distracting myself and let my eyes stray to the passing merc X. The driver is a lady. She seems to be rushing somewhere given the way her swift poised neck is making rapid corkings. The seats are leather and custom made. That must have cost a good fortune. How I notice all this from where I’m seated is all the same strange. But I smile all the same, this time with my lips.
‘ Why do do still love him…’
I don’t look at you cause I know the look ill gaze into.
Will he believe if I told him that I miss rolling 4 in the am in bed into his long arms that never let me go?
That every time I breath, I miss the heart with only the beat in my chest!
That I miss his pathetic lasagna and the insane 2 am coffee at La Cafe?
That I miss the simple things in life we shared, like the way he sang worse than a cat on heat?
The way he will cut his nails crooked and insist I file then cause he will say that its my back that they will scratch then I hit him with a pillow?
Will he understand the hollowness ahead and beneath me now. I feel it every time I cry, every time I cough or laugh or sneeze cause echo is the only voice that that I hear.
Will he understand that my nail polish is chipping because for long that hasn’t been my concern…
Micheal will never understand that.
I look at him one last time and storm out..
He doesn’t call back like he usually does but I could feel his eyes on me.
May be I’m the stupid, crappy and naive one. I want to rush back, for just a second and hug him, but I don’t. I swing the bag over my shoulder and head for the road my mind on that bottle and that’s when the Merc X swings by.
Screeching of breaks!
Heaven and Hell.
I don’t know which of two this highway with flash lights leads to.
Both are real