Thursday, March 31, 2011

Bring your pain, but never wear it

i stalk you everyday like a hunter with nothing but her arms

You give me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away

And I die when you mention her name

Forgive me for stalking you. It wasn’t me that gives the orders. I have left my being the day I met you. What's used to be there is not there anymore. The “person before” is nonchalant and safe. The “person now” is vulnerable and sensitive. She hungers for your whereabouts and your business. In fact, every bit of information (no matter how trivial) bothers the “person now”. So forgive the “person now” for stalking you and for knowing that things that should be kept aside and the things that should be left unsaid.

This morning, I read this French quote from de Scudery: “L'amour fait les plus grandes douceurs et les plus sensibles infortunes de la vie.

And it hit me like a hardball. It’s true, “Love makes life's sweetest pleasures and worst misfortunes”. Not only that, L'on est bien faible quand on est amoureux. One is very weak when one is in love. But I am not. Or am I?

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