I stood for long by your door last night, listening to the quiet sobs, tears going cold & heart hardening in resolve, as you cried yourself to sleep trying to soothe away the ache…in the morning your eyes looked hollow, doubt clouding your face, gone was the resolve and tenacity of yester night, replaced by desperation and contradiction, sifting through the sands for happier memories – changing truth to fantasy – looking for reasons to hold on. You tell me he’s still in-love with you, he really hasn’t moved on, you saw him yesterday and he looked miserable; he seemed gutted with regret. But you are just clutching at straws; it’s what you desperately want to believe even when you know better.
You saw the lights fading and knew the curtains were closing, all the signs were there but you chose to ignore them; the nights he never came home, all the texts that were never replied, the new best-friend – who used to be his old crush – how she slaps his hand every time they share a private joke… then one day he took off the costume and stopped playing the role. He said that you had changed and things just weren’t the same anymore but all the while he couldn’t look you in the eye. She came to pick him up when he moved his stuff out – a shoulder to lean on – but the next day you saw them, holding hands, in school.
I have seen the look in your eyes every time we ‘unintentionally’ bump into him at the all places you used to visit together, each time with a different girl hanging on his arm. Most times he doesn’t even notice you, so you whisper nothings into my ear and burst into exaggerated laughter but even then he only glances around to acknowledge you with the slightest nod. You squeeze my hand in hurt and plant a kiss on my cheek to make him jealous… I only wish the kisses were real but I keep my jealousy close!
Every time the world comes crashing down, you always wind up at my door; tears flowing, feeling used and cheap, faith broken, swearing never to take a chance on love again, not to let anyone in but every time those walls come crumbling down, you always rush in again; blindingly seeking the same hurt like the moth that rushes to a flame of its own destruction. And every time I am always there to catch your tears, to tend to the bruises; trying to salvage what is left of you heart – and each the time the pieces are getting smaller – reminding you that you’re worth a lot more, holding your hand so you may not give-up on love, mending your heart so you might love another.
My love seeks triumph in disguise; masking my true feelings with the pretense friendship and all the time secretly hoping to be found-out…It is true am seeing someone now but I lied when I said I loved her because my heart isn’t mine to give. Am afraid to show you the face of my love because am afraid you’ll turn away form me, afraid to tell you that what I feel for you because you might not feel the same. So I live clothed in wistful desire because I can’t bear the thought of you turning me down. But I have loved you all along and if I could, if I had the courage, if ever I find the right words, if it still isn’t too late for us…I would tell you how much I care, if ever you give me the chance, then maybe I will tell you how much I want to hold you, how am dying to kiss you, to soothe away all the fears and the pain from past hurts, if ever the time comes, maybe then you might be truly loved!
Cutting Grass 