an anger
that isn't the explosion
of an atomic bomb
dropped out of pride
But rather the simmering
of soup
left too long
atop a burning stove.
A ring of steady blue flames
standing together
Fueled by
your refusal to budge

She moves,
eyes burdened,
Gaze heavy and hot,
the searing pain of betrayal in every curve,
every edge,
Faintly glowing aura of passion.

She moves,
palms open,
Breaths shallow and quick,
inexorable need to trust in every touch,
every caress.
Fingertips on unfamiliar terrain.

She moves,
mouth careless,
Words biting and frank,
Keeping careful distance in every remark
every reply.
Heavily armoured heart on sleeve.

She moves,
Always an arm's length away-
Out of your reach.

Relentless buzzing,
Eagerness to make contact,
The thrill of the chase.

Mushy sweet nothings
Hugs and kisses, I love you.
Honeymoon period

Fingers hovering,
keypad ready and waiting-
"Read with no reply"

Three successive beeps
One minute of hanging on,
Calls never returned.

Desperate beeping,
Threats of violence and suicide,
Curtain call for love.

I think the problem is,
I fall in love too easily -
With the way the light falls on their face,
With the slightest tilt of their head,
the smile that reaches into the creases of their faces.
I fall in love with their passion,
The way they dance with abandon,
The way they care, too much.
But all these are essences, ideas -
Not always a truthful portrayal of living being
and I fall out of love as quickly as I fall in
Again.

Misery seems to have welled up inside me again
And once again old instincts are kicking in
Urging me to find another victim
Another one to expose my seemingly innocent underbelly to,
Another one to spew my venom on
Another one to entangle in my confused web of logic
But I know now
My heart aches not for any individual,
But for an ideal-
A saviour that can take all my burdens
And purge me of my heavy heart and disquiet mind and haunting thoughts
Because in a night like this
My chest is swelling and swelling and I'm choking and struggling to breathe and I grasp
At the nearest individual who would be interested
Interested enough not to sidle away at the first signs of my pregnant mind
Full of Misery, despair, confusion, depression, it's all messed up in my head
Tumbling out in a mess of prose and poetic verse and just fragments
And I need to be held together by somebody other than the fragile threads of imagined self hood I have woven together
From expectations of others.
And just like this mess,
There is no conclusion, and my mind wanders off,
Running out of words with which to explain this void I wish somebody could fill

She was an iceberg
And I, the Titanic