A Conundrum:

Tell me. Tell me what do I have to do to have you look at me? No, not an eternity, not a lifetime only a moment? Tell me! Shall I climb the Everest? Shall I run a marathon to you? Shall I put on a slinky dress to put up a show for you? Shall I make them crave me so you crave me too? Shall I pull my cuticles out and tear my hair away? Shall I starve myself? Shall I hide myself away like a lost treasure or act like a stolen bird in a cage? Shall I flap my wings in hatred and suffocation? Shall I dance in sorrow? Or shall I howl like a lost lion amidst craving misery. Shall I grieve for you like the sweet perpetual Magdalene? Shall I yearn for you like a God?

My eyes have swelled up many rivers for you. They are dry now. I have called for you many times in my sleep. I have felt your presence linger by some times. I have woken up in a sweat at times only to wonder where you might be, my love.

How can you be so oblivious to my pain? How can you enjoy my misery so well? How can you take such satisfaction seeing me wither away? I turn pale and gurgle white foam but you still sit and lazily rock back and forth, playing a smug little smile on the sides of your mouth.

I concede I am not a very happy person but I spent it all making you happy. So don’t complain if I wasn’t what you expected. Don’t be disappointed if you found me too depressed. I made my destitution your solace. You washed your worries with my precarious laughter. So don’t complain if my laugh is hollow today. I accept my friend; I have become an empty vessel. I am no use to you now, am I? I have gone stale.

So fine! Throw me away. Chuck me out. Push me down. Pull my hair away and cut them off. Maim me if you will. If that would appease you. Make me a vessel to your anger. Make me. Hit me to evade your guilty conscience. To help you get a better sleep at night.

Oh but why would you? No? You rather make a clean break? Why would you not want to get your hands dirty? You don’t want my blood on them? You think I am filth. You shall not desecrate me. You think you are above it.

Of course you are. Of course you would never break my heart and scar me too. No, you don’t have the guts. You were never the one to cut a life short and stick around to mourn your deed. You were never the one to stab someone bloody and hang around to cover up after.

No, you are not the one to complicate things. I am the one who creates melodrama and you exit. Quietly. Sheepishly. You move through me like in a trance. You don’t even want to acknowledge me. You say it’s a waste of time. Was it a waste of time when you came to me begging for understanding? I felt your need in your destitution. I saw the worry etched in your face. I saw the truth. I saw the hope. I saw a life. I saw you.

Now you scare me. Now you won’t come close. I feel like a dead carcass withering away and you won’t come near for fear of catching my stench. My stench which you want to shake away so bad. My stench which you once wanted inside you. Something you wanted to cage in a box. Now you run away from it as if caught on fire.

So tell me my love, I loved you. Did you Love me?