PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I cannot do either. 

No matter what level of imagination 
I try to instill over your reality, 
I still see you as you were 
when I first saw you. 

You were walking across the floor 
in a busy metropolitan airport. 
Tired from a long flight. 
I had come to meet a friend. 
I did not expect to meet a lover. 

We exchanged a few words. 
Do you remember our breathless 
conversation that followed? Like 
rushing cars on a highway, we 
exploded into a passionate 
existence together. 

Our relationship began that day. 

We became like two taps 
both pouring out the same 
level of water. 

I don't think I even noticed 
the exact second that this 
changed for us. 

When soft touches of love were 
replaced by harsh eyes 
that glared in anger and hatred. 

When shouting became our 
principal form of communication. 

Hating me has seemed to become 
your new level of understanding. 
Dismayed, I crawl like an 
emotional insect in the dirty 
ground. I am flustered with 
the effort of pretending. 

I have tried to hate you with the force 
of wild winds blowing like fire 
across the perimeter of my psyche. 
I have tried to dismiss your image 
as if it had been ripped and crinkled 
into a waste can. 

I cannot play this charade anymore. 
It has become too difficult to let 
this gushing hurt continue to 
flow into the open wounds 
we so easily have caused one another. 

I cannot hate you. 

But I can leave you, if that is 
what you wish me to do. 

As I do, I linger still in this 
mental photograph I have of 
a beautiful woman rushing 
through the airport.