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Week 4


I could not fathom
How poets bled from their pens and
Wrote about unrequited love and desolation that
Pierced our hearts with poems about love that ends.

I did not understand
Why people started wars.
How could people be so cruel
And not kind to one another?

I couldn’t even comprehend
Why people started affairs?
Why people tried to snatch
Something that wasn’t theirs?

I only knew of a simple love
A gentle love, a kind one,
A love that’d never hurt
A love that will always stay and never run…

…until I saw you for the first time:
Captured in frame, you were smiling.
The moment I saw you I just knew
That you would be the death of me.

Now I know why people started wars
Because I would too, for you.
Now I know why the poets bled
Because I’m bleeding too.

I can now see why people choose to lie
Because lying is easier than walking in a straight line.
Now I can see why people choose to die
of a broken heart that’s bleeding like spilled wine.

Your name is enough
To enrage a storm within my heart,
The crinkle in your eyes when you smile is enough
For this melancholic yearning to last forever.

My heart wants nothing more than to feel
Your soft lips touch mine, not someone else;
My heart wants to want you, have you,
But above all, my heart wants your happiness.

My deepest desire when it comes to you
is to have you look into my eyes.
And would you be able to tell
That those eyes have dreamt of you a thousand times?

I do not wonder what a lifetime
will be like with you? Bliss or wreck?
But I do wonder ceaselessly how it will feel
to have your face buried in the crook of my neck. . .

I either wish I had never ever known you
Or had met you long, long ago,
And grew up together in your town
And played as kids in the meadows…

…but I met you 27 years too late,
Our paths already diverged without any tangent,
Now if I were to tell you I loved you
I’d be hanged and burned like the witches in Salem.

Loving you will destroy everything I hold dear
But for you, I’ll do anything, everything.
I can jump the cliff, I can pull the trigger,
Can carve my heart out to you as if it’s a plaything.

I will start wars for you,
I will burn cities for you,
I will sharpen knives for you,
I will plunge the dagger for you,
I will take the blame for you…
But the only thing I cannot do is
Break his heart for you.

All I can do is watch you from afar,
And send you chrysanthemums on your birthdays:
September the thirteenth.
I’ll watch you become somebody who’ll change the world
And I’ll watch you marry the woman of your dream;
All I can do is keep loving you quietly
And write you a thousand poetry.

– B.