Pathetic Melodram-romanticism
where's my choleric girl?
to anxiously provoke me with her gaze
to poke me while i'm distracted
to subtly and shyly exhibit her worth
to reflect my ghost on her eyes
to drown me into her words
to awkwardly imply she likes me back
to talk to me even in my sleep, or in my shower, while i'm all alone
to freeze and race my heart within a second
to open the doors to me
not only that, but also invite me to stay
stay to walk the pavement together
walk the joy together
the pain
and tears together
to make me witness the ambiguity of a real person
to strip her breasts bare beneath the balcony's moonlight
to tell me she always hated men and their ridiculous fantasies;
their obvious longing for gendered submissiveness
to constantly think ahead of me
to know what song i need to listen at just the right moment
to tell me i'm the most insufferable person in the world
to be the happiest and most stressed person, on the fateful day of meeting her parents
to fervently argue that Godard is better than Truffaut
to silently stare at a painting for forty minutes, like Céline
to be drunk and loud and sad at a crowded party
to read a book at the corner of the room looking like Virgin Mary
to sing pagan songs through the nights
to make me want to kill her
or to be, gladly, killed by her
but, mostly, to live through the centuries with her
to be the ghost i can't see in myself
to be the cholera i can't accept in myself
to be the weakness i can't love in myself
to be the love i could only find in someone else
where are you, my choleric girl?
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Posted Sep 3, 2022, 3:01 AM UTC · edited