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Eternal Love. Or: Until the End of My Days.
Your epilogue:
“What happened to us? You have become a stranger to me.
I look at the beautiful bouquets from you
and yet I do not feel safe with you.
We both wanted to talk,
you came with flowers, I with cake,
just like back then, only now we curse incessantly,
we are arguing again.
If you are honest, you know I don’t deserve this.
I am slowly getting scared that you can no longer love,
that you cannot reciprocate the feelings I have.
It makes me sick when you say that’s not true.
You still talk about great happiness, yet behave like a child, you don’t look me in the eyes and now appear not only deaf but also blind.
Why are you doing this to me? Where does the hatred in you come from?
I didn’t want to realize that I am losing my place
- the sunny place in your heart, deep in your soul.
Now your carnations sit like a noose around my throat.
You no longer listen to me, I have no significance anymore.
My thoughts fly through the room, crisscross.
You are afraid.
Is it okay if you flee because of this?
Why does the shamelessly arrogant and intrusive dental assistant with the bleached torch curls and the torch smile call you at nine in the evening,
on a Saturday night,
on the very day we have our four-year anniversary?
Better you leave right now before you see my bitter tears.”
I sit here with a hot chocolate over the photos of us, from happy days.
Us together, so free and happy, before you suffocated me with flowers, with gifts - and I suspected it would not end well. The smell of your bad conscience has overshadowed every bouquet.
I taste nothing. Everything tastes bitter.
Tired. Coffee. Thoughts spin in circles.
«Когда тебя предали - это всё равно, что руки сломали. Простить можно, а обнять это уже не получается.»
(«When you are betrayed, it is like having your arms broken. You can forgive them, but you can no longer embrace them.» L.N. Tolstoy)
Cozy blanket. Window seat. The home full of warmth, it no longer reaches me, I feel like a stranger, trapped in my own four walls, which are closing in ever tighter.
His epilogue:
“It is a moment that takes your life
and it doesn’t matter if we are both against it.
For the fate of us all, we wait for the day.
And the loss will come like the nail in your end:
the wooden coffin.”
---------------
In case someone didn’t understand the dental assistant: She is personified saffron.
If this was too chaotic and too “meta” for someone: Sorrynotsorry. Just never read my thoughts again.
If someone finds “the basis of the main text in German quotation marks” familiar: Bushido - Augenblick (2005)
“What happened to us? You have become a stranger to me.
I look at the beautiful bouquets from you
and yet I do not feel safe with you.
We both wanted to talk,
you came with flowers, I with cake,
just like back then, only now we curse incessantly,
we are arguing again.
If you are honest, you know I don’t deserve this.
I am slowly getting scared that you can no longer love,
that you cannot reciprocate the feelings I have.
It makes me sick when you say that’s not true.
You still talk about great happiness, yet behave like a child, you don’t look me in the eyes and now appear not only deaf but also blind.
Why are you doing this to me? Where does the hatred in you come from?
I didn’t want to realize that I am losing my place
- the sunny place in your heart, deep in your soul.
Now your carnations sit like a noose around my throat.
You no longer listen to me, I have no significance anymore.
My thoughts fly through the room, crisscross.
You are afraid.
Is it okay if you flee because of this?
Why does the shamelessly arrogant and intrusive dental assistant with the bleached torch curls and the torch smile call you at nine in the evening,
on a Saturday night,
on the very day we have our four-year anniversary?
Better you leave right now before you see my bitter tears.”
I sit here with a hot chocolate over the photos of us, from happy days.
Us together, so free and happy, before you suffocated me with flowers, with gifts - and I suspected it would not end well. The smell of your bad conscience has overshadowed every bouquet.
I taste nothing. Everything tastes bitter.
Tired. Coffee. Thoughts spin in circles.
«Когда тебя предали - это всё равно, что руки сломали. Простить можно, а обнять это уже не получается.»
(«When you are betrayed, it is like having your arms broken. You can forgive them, but you can no longer embrace them.» L.N. Tolstoy)
Cozy blanket. Window seat. The home full of warmth, it no longer reaches me, I feel like a stranger, trapped in my own four walls, which are closing in ever tighter.
His epilogue:
“It is a moment that takes your life
and it doesn’t matter if we are both against it.
For the fate of us all, we wait for the day.
And the loss will come like the nail in your end:
the wooden coffin.”
---------------
In case someone didn’t understand the dental assistant: She is personified saffron.
If this was too chaotic and too “meta” for someone: Sorrynotsorry. Just never read my thoughts again.
If someone finds “the basis of the main text in German quotation marks” familiar: Bushido - Augenblick (2005)
Translated · Show original
7 Comments
It's really not worth a tear; the question I had was how to reconcile the promise of eternal love with the scent. Love until suicide fit both the length of the relationship and the very woody base (-> coffin).