Love Came, Love Left
A Poem
It daunts me and sends hysterics
the sound of moans and whispers, the hurt, pleasure
and pain is their aesthetics.
It came all at once like a storm,
it stabbed me like a thorn, the pain and joy
of running in the rain, only once
and twice addicted to cocaine.
A city of Brooklyn, London and Berlin,
desired and built to haunt a broken and miserable woman,
the sound of cars, trains, conversations and sirens,
awake her before the kiss planted on her forehead.
On cobblestone streets a cigarette burns,
the scent from miles away, only smelt by the disturbed,
a woman walks alone through the maze of alleys.
Liquor store lights illuminated, wine brought from the finest valleys,
the red poured down her throat, the grapes and berries the least of her
most.
When love came I was cold and still as though I was a corpse,
it came through me with such force,
for a minute winter had ended and summer arrived,
the warmth, the comfort and that feeling were felt inside.
When love came she was a woman, a man and a bouquet of sunflowers,
made love through all nightly hours, as though love was awake and
ready for life as I.
When love came the rain from my eyes finally dried, brought together
by a riptide, held together by the salt and fear of losing that ability to breathe.
Love came like a sunflower, a tulip and a summer breeze,
it came in light despite the grief.
A virgin bloomed, a tulip almost left in the nude,
before love came with me, I was left pure.
It came into my life as though it belonged there, it walked through my
house as though it was meant to stay,
it’s draft always playing with the roots of my hair,
but then come to Tuesday, when the sun rose far too late.
When love left it knocked me down, the ocean begging,
almost waiting for me to drown.
Under the covers, the pages turned,
two lovers, now strangers, now only one suffers.
Almost left for dead despite a heart pounding against my chest
like poems, all written and read,
left unnoticed and collecting dust,
displayed for the world to see,
yet burning alive after being left undiscussed.
Confusion, hurt, anger and jealousy,
every memory, attached with simply love’s identity;
a cloud darkens and the sun hides away,
my eyes left alone to be wide awake.
Coffee, wine, nothing keeps me conscious no more,
the feeling sucked out of me,
love is a vampire, love has drained me,
it’s brought me to my knees.
Love, come back, I’ll cherish you and love your faults
despite your condemnation, illustrated by my highly intoxicated
mind’s imagination.
I’ll be your summer breeze, your blooming virgin,
your warmth and comfort,
made like a bed that I’ll learn to emerge in.
I’ll be the breeze that touches your hair and figure,
that feeling that is so familiar,
I’ll let you bloom, against my skin, like flowers in
the middle of June.
Love never came back,
love remained a stranger, it walks around knowing everybody
except me, love sent me into a feeling of insecurities and danger.
Love became the drug that sends you into hallucination, wanting
more and more but left me wanting nothing more but salvation.
Love came, love left,
love left me.
Love was you, love is you.
