Schizophrenia Love


For a man who valued his freedom, he was dangerously close to love

He worked hard to sculpt his heart into a stone

Glued his ego on his left side, so she wouldn’t miss even if she tried

But when he lay on his bed at night, she crept into his dreams,

beside him; she stole his thoughts until they were only hers

Her eyes became the eyes he used to view the world;

he lived only because he channeled her

He no longer had parts that belonged to him.

 

He went back in, again and again, to the parts that were still his,

maybe if he traced his way back he would finally send her away,

so he could keep his heart only to himself

His time machine had stories to tell, how he still met her, time after time

He kissed her in the lips of others,

the ones he wanted to replace her with,

smelled her in the arms of a stranger beneath his sheets,

saw her smile in the portrait of Mona Lisa,

hummed her song until it became his song, their song.

 

She was the woman who served him coffee at his favourite restaurant,

the woman who bumped at him in the street corner

Sometimes, she was his cleaning lady,

those days he stayed home to watch her scrub the carpet

Sometimes, she was the poet reciting lines in the city square,

those days she belonged to other admirers as well

There were the men who clapped when he clapped,

those who asked for her number just like he did

The ones whose smiles she returned, others she ignored.

 

Sometimes, he lost her in a crowded alley but found her on the other side

Other days, there were too many of her when he wanted just one

Sometimes, she ran away scared when he nudged at her arm

Sometimes, she fought hard with pepper spray

On really bad days, he got a black eye or two,

always from the man who held her hand.

 

There was no escaping her, no matter how hard he tried

Once she came in through that portal called love,

there was no sending her back

To deny her was to deny his own existence because she was him and he was her

For a man who valued his freedom, he had fallen in love.

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About sensoria300

I harness words, I thrive on them. I tell stories. I am dreamer, sometimes a poet but mostly I am a Game of Thrones fanatic. Lady Olenna, Lyanna Mormont and Arya Stark are my spirit animals.

Posted on August 24, 2014, in Poetic Justice. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. wow…very creative and educative.i love it……………love is called love when it is pure and true.

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