For Those We Couldn’t Have

We were enraged and battle-hardened
persons in the field of life
But, when they first touched our hands
and whispered – Love.

We stood still, unable to react until we
realized we were Pines
Then aridity arose us only when they
became
Inconstant, Fleeting, Stiff and Stormy.
And it was too late when we realized we
were lost
In a love, a nightmare that for the
best solemnly
Sank us in a bondage of reacting to
smoke even in the absence of inferno,
That weakened our perversion to watch
them squirt in our hands.

We wanted so badly to look inside their
eyes
And in silence, as if beauty was gawky
to be swept in something deep,
To even momentarily avoid the ache
that has turned into something
endlessly fantabulous.

We collapsed in such tremendous wails
Evenly and hopelessly unable to
experimentally show how we feel.

Albeit in hues of romance, we turned
into poets,
Those bastards who in an incessant
curse attempt to write the beauty of a
violin.

Only when we realized their kisses
weren’t flowers but swords
And no matter the traces of our
chords, we couldn’t even hum
For we were too hollow to dramatize
tribulation.

What’s worse is,
We suddenly knew all about how they
moved
How the sun bounces of their eyes and
like romance,
They became the name of our
lamentations.

Nothing bites hard as much as their
admiration of our minds
Because they use it as a yardstick to
test and counter their level of guilt.

It has been upon us
From the first time we realized abysses
are homes and we decorated
That we won’t ever get over them, we
simply couldn’t.

There are those we never stop loving
And even measuring our moving on is a
cathedral fallacy,
Because we want to see them drown
inside us.

Yet we love again, maybe more or less
But they were people we wish we could
still have.

Now we know we are fools and emotive
chimneys we cover
While plummeting back into the
battlefront – Always!

We aren’t searching nor crying for
them anymore but recollecting a past
that will forever be our shadows.

© Eddy Ongili