onyx geode
among all the theaters,
you were the play I never rehearsed,
never even read the script.
I was never able to foresee
what love had prepared for us.
Love…
that bitter, oppressive feeling
that presses against my chest,
against my heart,
provoking its own beats.
Irritating…
I never even came close to crying.
It’s as if I had never burned myself before.
It’s completely insane
the way I set myself on fire for you.
We do crazy things for love, don’t we?
I should have thrown it in your face
how loving you is my most fatal mistake,
but I didn’t want to make you feel bad.
Honestly,
I wanted to keep destroying myself for you,
no matter what.
What a shame
truly a shame
that I let my brain
take over the command of my emotions
just once.
I’ve been rude with words lately.
Let’s be honest:
decorating poetry doesn’t suit me.
I’ve always been raw in what I say,
though there used to be
a touch of metaphor.
Back then,
when poetic sense still ran through my veins,
I would say something like this:
we had a dynasty
of comings and goings,
always so grand and proud,
yet so small when it came to the future.
Fear would speak our name
without even knowing it,
and uncertainty would hold us
with such a freezing touch
that I finally said: enough.
That tug of war
I always tried to pull alone
toward love…
it was always unilateral,
and I didn’t mind —
in a way.
How much of me would bleed
for you to love me?
Honestly,
I don’t have the answer.
But if it weren’t for
a small trace of scruples in my mind,
I would still be choking
on the blood of my dreams
for you.
I’ve always seen love as a casino.
Ironically,
I’ve always been addicted to betting.
But I confess:
betting my own heart
was too much…
even for me.
That’s what I thought.
Because the moment I saw your eyes
cross mine,
I had already lost my hand.
Seriously,
I barely understood what I felt
and had already written you
five different poems.
Right there, my heart was on the table
without me even noticing
I had placed it there.
And if you had asked for something more
for a few miserable coins…
I would have taken the deal,
honestly.
I think it’s human
to want to be loved when you love.
I was never very human.
Maybe that’s why it took me so long
to run away.
Better than anyone,
you know me.
And it’s okay to be this way.
I don’t think anything hurt me more
than the sentence:
“you’re the closest thing to love
I’ve ever felt.”
You know what?
I didn’t even know
I could die before you.
And the feeling is good…
You proclaim my love
as something grotesque and vulgar,
when all I’m doing
is sacrificing myself.
Believe me:
dying for you
makes me feel alive,
simply because I feel mortal
in the face of your threats of leaving.
Look at that.
You left.
And worse than that…
my heart keeps beating.
Damn it, right?
The days keep dragging themselves
back and forth…
It’s kind of annoying.
Very annoying, actually.
If you want to know:
yes, I am sad.
Depressed.
Crying in every corner I pass.
And “everything will be okay”
is the most idiotic phrase
I’ve been repeating ever since.
You know I always dealt with fear and sadness
in an energetic way:
I talked more when I was unwell,
made more jokes,
moved faster…
I’m fine like this now.
And don’t be mistaken:
my smile is my best defense.
My silence is an attack —
a devastating one.
Too bad it only knows
how to aim at myself.
Annoying, right?
Want to know a little secret of mine?
Loving you was reckless.
It hurt me in the beginning,
in the middle,
and at the end.
Even after the end, really.
But I would do it again.
Again
and again.
You know this:
the blame isn’t yours.
It was always mine.
But I also don’t feel
I can carry all of this alone.
What fault is it of mine
to love without being loved?
It’s better if I say
that everything will be okay…
and stop thinking
with my heart
for today.
One more letter…
out of the thousands
I never sent you.
There’s still so much
I wanted to tell you.
deep creek
fiery urchin