Tag: unrequited love

Unless you decide it is

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment 


To just be a feather
To just be a butterfly
To just be a word

for the one you love.

To just be a fading distraction
To just be a faltering flame
To just be a flickering dream

for the one you love.

To just be a vivid nightmare
To just  be a growing terror.
To just be a salt on his wound

for the one you love

Leaves me speechless.
Leaves me wordless.
Leaves me hopeless.

Featherless.
Wingless.
Flightless.

Like a ghost.

My love was a torrential rain.
My love was a sweeping tornado.
My love was a crushing wave.

For that gentle boy.
For that wounded soul.
For that wingless sparrow.

Is there a tear in your eyes.
Is there a tear in your heart.
Is there a tear in your words.

How would I know?

I’ve gone with the birds.
I’ve gone with the wind.
I’ve gone with the moon.

Leaving your to your own heart.
Leaving you to your own silence.
Leaving you to your own words.

Be at peace.
Be at ease.
Be free.

But don’t forget,

Some Birds return in spring.
Some winds return at night.
The moon wane and waxes-

Nothing is truly over.
Unless you decided it is.

29/04/20

~ Layla ~ 1 Comment 
Yesterday,
You dreamt I said goodbye.
I wrote about saying goodbye.
I tried to say goodbye.


But here I am.


Not quite here,
Not quite there.


A vision,
A memory,
A ghost,


Just like you.


Do I haunt you?
Do I whisper in your ear?
Do I linger in your arms?


Because I hear you
In the broad day light.


Because I hear you
In the middle of breakfast.


Because I feel you
In the deep night.


I know this song so well.


I’ve sung it before, like a hymn.
I’ve drunk it before, like poison.
I’ve stretched it before, like a canvas.


Don’t tell my friends,
Don’t tell my mama,
Don’t tell my cat,


There she goes again;


They’ll sigh.


On and on
Over and over
Higher and higher


Like a swing,
Like a hurricane,
Like a galaxy.


A heart that doesn’t know


How to turn away
How to walk away
How to run away.


A heart that only knows how to


Love
Love
and love.


You said goodnight 
But you meant goodbye.


I said goodbye
But I meant goodnight. 




Oh but the rain keeps on falling…


Like a gushing torrent.
Like a weeping ocean.
Like a glistering curtain.


Tomorrow,


The fields will be green.
The flowers will be bedewed.
The letterbox will be empty.


… But I will still be waiting. 

27/10/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment 
 No I don’t think about you.
 

 These afternoons feel like summer. 
 These nights feel like winter.
 Scalding yet freezing. 
 

 No I don’t think about you.
 

 I point to no one in particular : the mushrooms and their church hats.
 I point to my own self : the primrose with their may queen dresses.
 Spring in Autumn, Autumn in Spring.
 

 Nothing is black or white.
 Nothing is stone and water.
 Nothing is dry and clear.
 

 Lovers sitting by the road.
 

 A man brushing the tendrils from his darling’s face.
 A young woman brushing her fingers against his arm. 
 

 Lovers sitting side by side. 
 

 No I don’t think about you.
 

 I look at his face and his gaze.
 I look at her face and her smile. 
 I look into myself and wonder…
 

 How does it all work?
 

 How to love?
 How to be loved?
 

 How doest it all work?
 

 I smile at them as I walk by,
 I am not here.
 Only they are here.
 

 The power of love,
 

 How soft!
 How strong!
 How blissful!
 

 No, I don’t think about you.
 

 I leave the lovers behind,
 I leave the leavers behind.
 I leave love behind.
 

 And by the fields, 
 

 He comes straight for me.
 He asks for me pleadingly. 
 He doesn’t let me leave.
 

 Soft,
 Fluffy,
 Wet.
 

 Black and white,
 Tail raised high,
 Face nestled against my boot. 
 

 I melt,
 As he melts.
 

 What is love?
 

 An innocent flutter.
 A gentle breeze.
 And sunshine.
 

 No I don’t think about you.
 

 The cat is left behind.
 The dogs chasing it away. 
 The dog is left behind.
 

 Up ahead,
 Down the street, 
 Far across 
 

 Lives a company of birds.
 

 They know my name,
 They know my step,
 They know about the road I take.
 

 The follow me,
 

 Asking about love.
 Asking about you. 
 Asking about my heart.
 

 Soon they will leave.
 Where to?
 

 Through the desert and the sea.
 Through the mountains and the forest.
 Through the curtain of loss and forgetfulness.
 

 Soon they will leave.
 To find you.
 

 No, I don’t think about you.
 

 The blue blue sky is empty.
 The dark dark earth is upturned.
 The grey grey road is beckoning me.
 

 Go, go on.
 Come, come on.
 Leave, leave on.
 

 Soon I will leave.
 Where to?
 

 Through fields and woods,
 Through valleys and gorges.
 Through hills and dusty cities.
 

 Soon I will leave.
 To find myself.
 

 No, I don’t think about you.
 

 Why would I?
 

 When lovers mock you.
 When cats compete with you.
 When birds can find you.
 

 No, I don’t think about you.
 

 You are in the falling leaves.
 You are in the drooping roses.
 You are in the forgotten moss.
 

 You never leave.
 You never return.
 You never speak.
 

 That man by the curb.
 That face by the door.
 That hand by my own.
 

 No I don’t think about you.
 

 But you keep on drifting back to 
 

 The streets I cross.
 The cafés I haunt.
 The life I never lived.
 

 No I don’t think about you.
 

 Autumn is yours.
 The season of a first glance.
 The season of a last glance. 
 

 But every season has its season.
 

 Come and gone,
 Like a dream.
 

 Come and gone, 
 Like a celebration. 
 

 Come and gone,
 Like a wisp of wind.
 

 No I don’t think about you.

13/10/19 (midnight)

~ Layla ~ 2 Comments 
 It’s only when it’s very late.
 Or very early. 
 Too early, too late. 
 

 In a time between time.
 

 When I stretch words.
 When I glide on a song.
 When I close my eyes 
 

 And go back to that inner sanctuary.
 

 Beyond the warm flickering firelight,
 Beyond the wooden panels of this hut,
 Beyond the resting abode of my soul,
 

 There is a silhouette in the shadow.
 There is a gaze in the glimmer.
 There is a sigh in this stillness.
 

 Why?
 Why do you always remain?
 

 I finally know what the old crone beares on her back.
 I finally know what stories are buried with the maiden. 
 I finally know what hope carries the mother in her womb.
 

 Who am I?
 

 To you I am nothing.
 To you I was the untouched maiden.
 To you I way the barely sprung bud.
 

 And you?
 Oh you were
 

 The rain and the sunshine.
 The keyboard and the screen.
 The night and the stars.
 

 Everything.
 And you still are… 
 

 When the night is so deep,
 When the night is so silent,
 When the night is so cold,
 

 And I forget about
 

 Causality.
 Rationality.
 Credibility.
 

 And I believe in the 
 

 Unutterable.
 Unbelievable.
 Unspeakable. 
 

 Alone
 Mute.
 Frozen.
 

 My head full of songs.
 My eyes full of galaxies.
 My heart full of stories.
 

 Dearest,
 if you only knew…
 

 About all those words I only write for you.
 About all those places I only harbor for you.
 About all those gazes I only keep for you.
 

 You.
 Only you.
 

 But the stars fade.
 But the night alights.
 But the birds stir up.
 

 and I can longer feel you
 

 Right behind the curtain.
 Right after this bend.
 Right behind me.
 

 You are gone.
 

 And the day starts with a trumpet of engines.
 And the hours enfold with a chaos of voices.
 And reality sets in with a slamming of a door.
 

 Foolish, foolish girl.
 

 Until the autumn sun dips behind the trees.
 Until the golden leaves gently sway in the breeze.
 Until the breeze quieten down into an exhalation.
 

 And I can remember our last conversation.

11/10/19 23:50

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment 
Sweet little mirage,
 

 I wish I could hold you.
 I wish I could love you.
 I wish I could hear you.
 

 I know you think you want to love me.
 

 All sweet
 All strong.
 All dewy.
 

 You believe in this,
 But I don’t.
 

 Sweet little mirage.
 

 I should shoo you away.
 I should send you away.
 I should push you away.
 

 But I’m so cold.
 But I’m so tired.
 But I’m so lonely.
 

 I just want to dance with you.
 I just want to talk with you.
 I just want to be held by you.
 

 And melt in your embrace.
 

 Until blood flows again in my veins.
 Until  oxygen course through my body again.
 Until my cells are given a new life once more.
 

 And I can go back to the way.
 

 The winding way.
 The maddening way.
 The only way.
 

 Which is not yours.
 

 Sweet little mirage,
 Look around you,
 

 Sun scorched sand,
 Wind swept dunes,
 Scorpions riddled darkness. 
 

 This isn’t a place for you.
 This isn’t a haven for me.
 This isn’t a life for us.
 

 There cannot be an us. 
 

 I know your throat is parched with bitterness.
 I know your eyes are dried with sadness.
 I know your lips are blistered by loneliness.
 

 But what you see is
 

 An enchantress in the woods.
 A mermaid in the deep sea.
 A black hole in the heart of a galaxy. 
 

 Go back,
 Go back 
 Before it’s too late. 
 

 Don’t follow me,
 

 As I run from you.
 As I fly from you.
 As I escape from you.
 

 Oh how I wish you could hold me!
 Oh how I wish you could tell me you love me!
 Oh how I wish you could be my safe haven!
 

 But my sweet mirage,
 

 I will hurt you.
 I will break you.
 I will leave you.
 

 I already belong to someone else…
 

 So before you become a castle of sand. 
 So before you become a refreshing oasis.
 So before you become a deep well.
 

 All for me.
 

 Let me go.
 

 Forego
 Forgive
 Forget.
 

 For me….

25/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment 
 There is ice in my veins 
 There are ashes on my lips 
 There are pebbles in my eyes
 

 for all men but one.
 

 Indifferent,
 Detached,
 strong as hell…
 

 I’m always on the run.
 

 Why settle?
 Why bother?
 Why oh why?
 

 I’m over this.
 

 Careful
 Composed
 Controlled.
 

 How do you do it?
 They ask.
 

 Inside
 the galaxies are revolving.
 

 Inside
 the wind is bellowing.
 

 Inside,
 the girl is howling.
 

 and fighting.
 and singing.
 and dancing.
 

 Free
 Feral 
 Fiery.
 

 Crazy.
 
undefined

 But my face remains smooth.
 But my voice never wavers .
 But my stance never crumbles.
 

 This one with sweet words
 

 make my heart skip a beat.
 make my eyes swim
 make my soul sink.
 

 In the remote wood let me remain.
 In the alpine crest let me remain 
 In the sleepy creek let me remain.
 

 Unseen.
 Unspoken to.
 Untouched by heartbreak.
 

 Far from any of them,
 Only with your ghost.
 

 Maybe I’m already dead.
 Maybe I’m already rusted.
 Maybe I’m already scattered. 
 

 Why else would I remain basking in a memory 
 

 and running away
 and scattering away 
 and blowing away 
 

 as soon as someone approches.
 

 I could melt
 I could enwrap 
 I could open my heart.
 

 But I don’t.
 

 Never,
 ever
 ever.
 

 Unless it’s you.

21/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

I would have been easier

If I knew how to lie.
If I knew how to hide.
If I knew how to pretend.

It would have been easier.

If I could lie to myself.
If I could hide it from myself.
If I could pretend to myself.

It would have been easier.

You would know,
Wouldn’t you?
You?

Instead the mermaid tries to swim against the current
Instead the she-wolf tries to run against the wind.
Instead the owl tries to hoot against the thunder.

Their faces sometimes look like yours.
Their voices sometimes mingle into yours.
Their stories sometimes echo yours.

But they are not you.
They are never you.

How could they be you?
Do I even know who you were?

A fading pantomime.
A deserted circus.
And the soldier returning home.

But where is home?

Or did your return to another wasteland?
Or did you return to another battlefield?
Or did you return to another arena?

The noble homeless knight

Lost in the fray.
Lost in the fog.
Lost in the forest.

Tumbling into my hut.
Tumbling into my embrace.
Tumbling into my healing balm.

This is the story I wrote for you.

Do you blame me love,
For still calling you love?

Do you blame me love,
For still longing for your return?

Do you blame me love,
For making stories to soap up your silence?

You thought I idealized you.
You thought I admired you.
You thought I imagined you.

Maybe I did,

But I also saw the homeless boy.
But I also saw the weak man.
But I also saw the naked soul.

and I stared right back.

Is it right to belong,

To someone who has already left?
To someone who has left no trace?
To someone who has never wanted it?

I understand your tiredness now.
I understand your wariness now
I understand your brokenness now.

I even understand why you had to go.

I carry you ghost when I say no.
I carry your ghost when I run away.
I carry your ghost when I refuse to try again.

What ghost were your carrying?

When I tried to find your gaze.
When I tried to to find your heart.
When I tried to find your soul.

and I only found hollow words.

It shouldn’t matter,
after so many glorious autumns.

It shouldn’t matter,
after so many unanswered letters.

It shouldn’t matter,
after so many scribbled pages.

It really shouldn’t,
But it stil does.

You were never mine.
Yet I remain yours.

Silly silly girl…
Yours.

20/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

And I come back to you,

Like the waves come back to the rocks,
Like the leaves return to the ground,
Like the wind howls again between the trees.

My heart resiles.
My soul mounds.
My eyes replenish..

Is it a habit?
Is it an addiction?
Is it true love?

What do I know ?

I talk to the whispering night
I talk to the snoring neighbor
I talk to the pernicious wind.

That always returns.

Without a word.
Without an embrace.
Without a confession.

Just a filtering cold.
Just a sinister whimper.
Just a chaotic tumble.

Is it foolish?
Is it loyal?
Is it romantic?

Some would laugh scornfully.
Some would turn away impatiently.
Other would run for the hills.

Like you did.

Always running.
Always fading.
Always crystalizing..

Never returning.

I could have a handful of goldenseals.
I could have a pocketful of bluebells.
I could have a life full of soft buttercups.

I could.
But I cannot.

Instead I turn my face to the blistering cold.
Instead I turn my heart to the carving howl.
Instead I turn my soul to the ever burning core.

Burning,
Turning
And bursting.

In total silence
In complete stillness.
In utter peacefulness.

What noise do stars make in deep space

When they collide?
When they collapse?
When they burst to life again ?

In tiny tiny
growing growing
burning burning

embers ?

The same bursting silence,
The same gentle bustle.
The same voiceless awe

That echoes in your words.
That mingles with your breath.
That cadences your heart.

soft soft like a hummingbird’s exhalation.
hushed hushed like the night after the tempest.
empty, empty like a breaking heart after a dream.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I always return to you,
But you never do.

17/09/19

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

There’s a man I once,

Dreamt of,
Wrote about,
And fell in love with.

I never named him.
I never saw his face.
I never talked of him.

Until you came along.

The same eyes,
The same light,
The same soul.

There you were.

Straight from all those books I devoured.
Straight from all those songs I sang.
Straight from all those dreams I weaved.

Unreal,
Uncanny,
Unattainable.

The stories I always dreamt of writing.
The man I always dreamt of meeting.
The life I always dreamt of living.

Could it be?
Could it be true?
Could it truly be true?

I asked everyone…
But you.

Where did the birds flew to?

Where the leaves fall.
Where the petals scatter.
Where the wind blew.

Ah that wind!
Lo that wind!

Setting fire to a whole forest.
Spreading waves  of radioactivity.
Scattering seeds of bitterness.

But you weren’t a story,
But you weren’t a character,
But you weren’t a dream…

You were but a broken man
You were but a lost boy.
You were but a real person.

So I watch the blackbird leave for the winter.
So I watch the finches packing their bags.
So I watch the robin redbreast waiting for the new year.

You are but a person.

These pages are too heavy for you.
These poems are too heady for you.
These dreams are too scary for you.

Too much,
Too soon.
Too late.

I repeat like a mantra.
I whisper like a prayer.
I write like a farewell.

and now, I don’t miss you.
and now I miss him.
and now I miss her too.

The one who was before.
Primeval.
The one who was always.
Primordial.
The one who was for me.
Primal.

And as the harvest moon rises.
I reap bits of hope again

And as the stars barely glimmer.
I gather wisps of dreams again.

And as the sun glides bravely.
I glean melodious songs again.

And I sing…

To the ever lasting trees,
To the late rising birds,
To the lingering sunsets.

And I sing…

For the children who will never know.
For the adults who will never remember.
For the man who will never return.

and I sing…

To the smiling girl who still dreams.
To the crying girl who still writes.
To the glowing girl who still hopes…

The maddest of hopes.
Hope against hope.
Fool’s hope.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hope.

08/09/19 15:00

~ Layla ~ Leave a comment

Romeo and Juliet is a tale full of violence,
and death.
Not love.

Titanic is a tale full of madness,
and death.
Not love.

Twilight is a tale full of mental affliction,
and death,
Not love.

Never love.

But what of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy?
But what of John Thornton and Margaret Hale?
But what of Angélique and Joffrey?

This is love,
true love.
Isn’t it?

But what of you and me?

The mad rambling of a lonely creature.
The wild feelings of a sensitive woman.
The gentle pebbles of a dreamer sparrow.

Wool gathering,
Castle building,
Raindrops collecting.

Sand slipping through my fingers.
Ashes slipping through my fingers.
Seawater slipping through my fingers.

The wind,
The ever evasive wind.
Constantly

Never to be predicted,
Never to be perceived,
Never to be remembered,

by others.

Yet, always,

Waking me up at the death of night.
Drifting into my deepest sleep.
Floating over my ardent sunshine.

The wind;

Not a love story,
Not a love song,
Not a love poem;

A tale of madness,
A tale of sickness,
A tale of emptiness.

Loving without touching.
Loving without seeing.
Loving without speaking.

Only living in memories.
Only living in dreams.
Only living in words.

Only.

This isn’t love.
This isn’t life.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

It’s you and me.