Warning: Naughty language ahead!

 

Before the words roar from me like a steam engine

Furious and loaded upon this paper

Burning away

I must tell you, first, that I love you

Yes I love you more than any other fucker I know

We bash off each other wickedly

you’re the way I like my coffee

The amount of care I have swollen in my red beating heart for you

Tries to talk me out of picking up the pen

But if we don’t say all the words

They fester into something that resembles nothing of the love I have for you

I’m still trying to love you

It hits me in the face at 12:32 a.m.

It’s infuriating really

I put down you

I reached at nothing

We called a truce

And perhaps it’s not you

I am trying to love

Perhaps it’s this idea

For you hide

There

Behind wisdom

You have spoken of

But are not living, now

You’re too damn busy to be loved

Airplane to airplane

I know that because your shit’s as thick as mine

And you dance a convincing dance

Your feathers took me for a fool

Once, twice

Again and again

I’m to blame

I know beneath the dance

What I am writing to say is

You’re just as terrified of love as the rest of us

So keep your flattery

I’ll have my ego stroked elsewhere

After all

You know better than I

That you are only brave enough

To dance there—away from me

To throw offerings

Of sex

Of praise

You’re only brave enough to heat the walls of my cabin with moans

be in between my legs, thighs

one night

What good is sex, without love?

We both know

It’s fucking pointless

I’ve told you again and again

If we make love once, you’re staying in my bed

Your heart is unavailable

Just like me, darling

Bloody hell, it’s why I’m trying to love you.

At least I know that my shit stinks

Take your flirtations

your empty jabs

shove them up your ass

and then write about it

write in circles so no one knows you’re as lonely

as the ones who knock on your door

12:36 and I’m through

This is a monologue

With one heart beating

We’re stronger as friends, than lovers

We always were

Today as almost lovers, we’re through.

 

 

 

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Author: Janne Robinson

Editor: Emily Bartran

Photo: getthepictures photography/Flickr