the mountains echo your name / the lake carries away the syllables of my first love

the moonlight fractures between the ripples in the water

as i clutch the lantern between forlorn fingers.

i crouch down

and the reflection in the lake jumps to life,

erupting

into this warped and wild wendigo

who retreats into the fence of trees.

the night has finally dawned on me,

the light has finally subsided into dark,

tonight, i will speak of you,

tomorrow, i will burn my tongue to forget.

pain was never a foreign destination to me,

yearning was my civilisation,

envy was my homeland,

rage was my liberation front.

however, my soil was always love

so i was content to let them trample on it,

content to swallow splatters of blood,

content to let tears fertilise my roots,

content to be this debased foundation for ruin and war.

i told you this in a much shorter form:

i know i can never be loved.

when i said it,

truthfully,

i already loved you.

you told me in a much sweeter prose:

that can never be true.

by then

i had already nestled embers of desire for you

within the fireplace crackling in my chest.

perhaps that was the first sign

you would eventually set me ablaze.

there is no antidote for this agony.

the poison of your memory

contaminates my bloodstream.

the tale is so old that even the poets have tired of it –

i gave you servitude on a platter,

you served me sorrow on a chopping board.

i don’t want to trace your name inside the seams of my shirt anymore,

i don’t want to be this miserable wax-melt of regret and despair anymore.

i have so much of you in my heart,

i have so much that burns and pangs within me.

if i had loved you less would you have left me later?

you couldn’t just ruin me for the world;

you had to deprive me of myself too.

when do i stop wailing by the walkway?

when do i stop waiting by the window?

when will you return?

the lake is so tranquil tonight.

i remember the proud bridge of your aquiline nose,

the soft curve of your philtrum,

collapsing against the silk of your lips,

your warm eyes that burned holes

through my skin,

your strong hands –

their veins that twitched like streams

leading to a treasure trove

of incomparable beauty.

i love you, i love you, i love you

i shove my head underwater

and whisper this shameful secret

so the moon can’t eavesdrop.

i’m so sick of pretending it’s untrue.

i’m so sick of acting like i’m not prepared

to drown myself to be yours again,

or at all.

the sizzling pit of love for you reignites inside my chest

your name is the match i will always itch to strike,

one day i will no longer carry the box with me.

one day the tub of gasoline will stay home.

one day i will have burned so well in martyrdom

that you might even cradle my ashes.

then i will know i was alive,

then i will know it was worth it.