What is love?
Tic tac,
the clock says.
Dug dug,
the heart beats.
I blink,
it fades.
But I blink again,
and it is back.
Turns out,
it never fades.
The silence is loud,
I hear the static noise,
like I’m going to be swallowed by it.
In the dreamland
where everything is paralyzed,
there
you liked me.
Why do I like you?
Even if you do not like me.
I prefer your hair down
and I prefer your hair now,
but they prefer your hair before.
You are not an ocean
but I am drowning
in your eyes,
your gaze feels like sun rays,
touching my skin,
touching the book I am reading.
Every afternoon,
the sun is bright,
too hot it burns my hair,
my skin
and the book
I am reading beside the window.
The sunlight reflects the lines of the window in the book,
it highlights every word I want to say to you—
how could the sun know what I am feeling?
Its sun rays,
it is like your gaze
and touch,
and how your hair is pierced into my delicate bones.
And everyday,
I wonder—
how could you be the person you are right now?
I wish you were better,
but if you are not who you are now,
I would not fall,
and I think
that is better.
Why do people think it is better to love?
Isn’t it sad?
To love you forget about your skin and flesh,
to love you forget you have a heart.
They say when you love
it makes you remember you have a heart
because when you love,
everyone around you is beautiful,
and you feel your heart beat.
But I think when I love,
it makes me forget I have a heart,
like my heart is empty but is also full,
like my heart is there,
outside—
above the left side of my chest.
I can feel it touch my skin,
I can feel it burn my skin,
I can even touch it with my bare hands,
the first time I touched it
I got blisters.
They say when you love
it makes you remember you have a heart
because when you love,
everything around you is gardens of flowers,
and you feel your heart beat.
But I think when I love,
it makes me forget I have a heart,
because how can I remember I have a heart
when I gave my heart to someone—
I gave my heart using my bare hands,
despite having blisters all over it,
inconceivably,
the blisters did not hurt,
it felt good—
warm.
I gave it in the most
soft,
tender
and gentlest manner I have ever known.
I have put it carefully beside his heart while he was sleeping,
dreaming dreams I also dream.
When he wakes,
he might hear first his alarm clock,
but I hope he can feel my heart,
singing a lullaby.
Although I have always looked at my chest where the given heart made a mark,
love makes me forget I had a heart,
not until I see my heart through his.
He is not a mirror nor an ocean,
but I can see my reflection
in him,
only him—
I can see myself through him,
only him I can see myself through.
What a remorse,
the heart cannot help but to beat
for someone
like you,
my heart chose to rest with your heart,
even if my brain warned my heart many times not to.
The sun is bright,
but the book I am reading is sad.
My hair and my face are bright from the sunlight,
but my heart is pounding,
at the umbrella you placed above my head—
it’s not supposed to be there,
you should have placed it under my feet,
so that it cannot walk to you.
I prefer burning my hair into the sun
until it causes fire,
to walking around,
to running fast—
and where will it go?
Oh,
my poor feet cannot stop to touch the grass in the road
that leads to your feet—
I will wash your feet for you,
will you wash mine?
You know,
you are not supposed to be mine.
I am not supposed to be yours,
we are not each other’s sleep.
Although I see you in my dreams,
my dreams are supposed to be just for me.
I do not like to like you,
I never wanted to like you—
but this feeling just won’t go.
Isn’t it terrible?
It is horrific,
I want to not love you.
I had my silent pleas
but outside,
it looked like loud sighs.
I even cried many times to God,
to make this feeling go away,
but this heart just wants you,
it beats for only you
and you
and you,
and you—
and nothing more,
and there is so much terror and danger,
I do not want to fall in love just yet . . .
how could I fall in love with you?
How could I fall in love with someone like you?
