4:32AM

(the rare blue full moon in Pisces)

He bore a scar on me,

within it, a flower grew.

He tore my pride to shreds like tatters,

Within it,

sprung a fall of love for myself.

A society where scales of mass hanging on bosom and behind matter more than stability and security itself,

so desperate that opinion belongs to beings seeking themselves,

Who am I to reckon that which I am similar to?

If I had to recount the times my throat contracted,

choking on my own breath at your jokes,

I would have to finish through the clans of African tribes.

How I felt so belittled and found comfort in that same presence?

I must sit with myself.

He loved me in all his ways,

oh his love-

His love nourished a beautiful sprout on my heart,

Flooding my mind with instant desire.

When he traced the creases of my fingers,

His touch blessed every nerve with ecstasy.

“Let’s read each other’s palms and see if we’ll be together.” I would beg.

He joked in return.

His jokes were the funniest because somehow, I just knew they were custom made for me.

I loved them. His jokes were mine to laugh so hard at,

even though I had heard each one of them in the half of a year, we had spent cuddling in my bed.

I was tainted with rage but still, I needed him to lay besides me.

I please myself with the tension that his presence provided,

my body, he ridiculed every time.

his, I worshipped.

my vulnerable urge to become irresistible to him lured me into reducing myself to a mere object of desire.

And when our hands coincidentally rubbed against each other,

I disregarded the fact that objects don’t become irresistible, subjects of their own souls do.

I was instead fathomed with a hunger for this enigmatic thrill,

That I would rather hang out inside a blanket on a Monday sunny afternoon.

How does it manage to feel so mysterious to our souls like it’s the absolute first time?

He roared a kind of love that woke in me a quest for more,

That Tuesday evening, when he spoke about how I was not the closest thing to what he would want with his mandibles fully spread out to the same air we shared,

The ecstasy was suddenly replaced with disgust.

My body froze at how much of this talk I had laughed at,

the jokes that deprived and had me locked up in the same room unable to move,

I realised,

I had laughed for a long time,

at myself.

I was the joke.

I would have loved to spit in his eye at that moment but I couldn’t even find a drop of saliva on my throat.

Once again, in his own way,

He took my breath.

In his shameless gut wrenching and betraying love,

I found in me a spring field of daisies and dandelions,

a presence so intriguing and warm,

that I seemed to look out for in everyone but myself.

If I must say, I already met my redeemer,

I am.