When I miss you that long, I check your photos
Like checking your face, your hair, your every tiny wrinkle,
so I couldn't miss your smiles I hoarded from the last time we saw each other
Maybe love stays, and stays as long as it could.
When I miss you, I try to create a poem about you
but ended up being captive of my own words and thoughts
I don't understand the poem but that poem understands me
As if I write a poem with a love language I don't remember getting,
or having, in the beginning
Love stays in a way that I am always thinking of you.
When I miss you, I simply stretch my body and sing your favorite song
I try to imitate your tone being registered in my memory
So flat yet relax
So peaceful yet inviting
So hopeful yet bashful
Love is remembering your every detail.
Like your scent of the fresh garden in the morning
or the way you walk when you're before me,
the way you sip your coffee and discuss your complaints about even small things in life,
the way you ask me to go with you to do errands,
or to order food for dinner
Love is a state of being excited to see those things every day.
When I miss you, I get my jacket and walk alone
to those streets we went through together
I remember that you have told me same stories twice or thrice
but I didn't mention it because I love to see how excited you are
telling me how marvelous your role is in that story.
Love is a coherent appreciation of my body next to you
which I wish that one day to see my fingers fit your hand, shoulder to shoulder
Love stays but this shouldn't.
So when I say "okay" that means "I miss you badly"
That wherever I go to those same places,
I wish I have the chance to say that I am longing for you.
And when I say "Yeah, okay!"
that means I need to pretend that I don't want to hug you,
that I need to pretend I don't want to take care of you.
Having these pretensions said is like giving a knife to a shriveled weak hand
cutting every edge of my callous heart
Yet myself stays with these okays and yeah okays
and I am hurting
and I promise me that I will leave without saying goodbye
Love stays and this shouldn't.
When I miss you, I should keep things right
Love stays and you will remain missed
but I need to get these things over with.
One day, I will make these sunflowers grow somewhere.
YOU ARE READING
The Moon I Become and other Poems
PoesiaA collection of poems dedicated to the undesirable parts of oneself told from the first-person point of view. Unfavorable situations are also reckoned thus becoming disliking of the self-being. Some of these poems also narrated self-pity and self-h...
