“What could
be worse than a love that cannot be returned,” I asked.
They say it
is the strongest yet the most painful,
To love
someone who never loved you and will never love you back.
They say it’s
like holding the right ticket trying to catch the wrong train that has long
passed.
They say
you feel suffocated but you never learn to stop.
They tell
me in broken words and melancholic sighs,
“What could
be worse than that?”
But she
kept silent without knowing how they’ll ever learn
Of a love
worse than a love unreturned
She tells
me, “how can I describe a love so true but never pure?”
A love that
long ago enslaved courtesans, chained men and women alike in places,
In memories
and dreams they never should’ve been.
They
silently die in corners, weeping for something, for someone in between.
She tells
me of a love that can risk death but not life,
Such selfish,
discrete, unspeakable, inconsolable love
For someone
worthy and unworthy at the same time,
Of something
so terribly wrong, that even those who claim to be righteous
Fall deep
into this self-made trap
She tells
me of wailing voices, pleading for love,
And a
little more light, and mostly forgiveness.
Let her
tell you more of a love for someone who loves back but is somebody else’s.
-Dec. 8,
2013
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