it felt electric.
She looked perfect,
and said all the right things.
She was warm one day,
and went cold the next.
I overthought her constantly,
anxious and addicted.
My heart whispered,
"Maybe this must be love".
But the rush wasn't love,
it was recognition of the past,
a nervous system remembering chaos.
Maybe I mistook anxiety for excitement.
Everything about her felt like passion.
Was it intimacy or intensity,
I could never understand
because they are not the same.
Sometimes she made me feel safe,
other times she kept me guessing.
Maybe I never feared love itself,
only the absence of chaos.
The tragedy is,
people don't always recognise healthy love.
They don’t know what to do
when peace finally arrives.
Maybe her body rejected it,
because her mind said "too easy"
not passionate enough.
Maybe comfort felt unfamiliar,
and peace itself became discomfort.
By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
No comments:
Post a Comment