Washing away the dust of yesterday

I never loved you, and I never will,
you can let those waves of fury inundate me,
and then pretend like a rose-cheeked
cherub, clasping your face, with bloodshot
eyes, and red droplets of self-pity, sobbing,
“He did. He did. He did,” and you can win
all the men, and live with them, and
girls who can’t let go of misery, but
remember that I never loved you,
and I never will. You’re not a photo
I place on the mantelpiece along
with my past exploits, and neither
are you a fumie I trample on with hate,
because I desire you again. No, you mean nothing,
because I never loved you, and I never will.
Love takes years of nourishment to
finally dazzle like The Flame of the Forest,
to stay strong like an oak
despite the winter’s chill, to cover one
in an August canopy, and if I said I loved
you, I lied, because six days on a phone
remains six days of loneliness drawing me
towards a wrong scent. And now, if you
seek to devour, playing
the blame game, and creating a
virtual apartheid, know, that despite
what you say or do, I never loved you,
and I never will. If you were to move on,
you’ll be a car in the distance making its way
through traffic that I won’t notice, if you were
to stay in your sorrow, you’ll be a muffled street light
that I won’t venture near, if you think
these words hide my love, know
that they only hide my former disgust for who you’ve
become, and who you’ve always been,
unable to exist without a fan following,
unable to exist without doing everything
in your integrity to try to break me,
but even if you were to blade my head now,
sever my veins, or strike me dead with your minions,
I’ll never love you, and I never will,
even if you were to twist things, and bend
reality, defaming me, I won’t care anymore,
I did once, until something dawned today,
asking, “Is a maligned sense
of self worth shielding?” And then
in that catharsis, I said a flat, “No.” And
that stays, regardless if delusion haunts you,
or nightmares echo from the walls you’ve
closed yourself in, apparitions
and gargoyles making you fight
with a make-believe for auld lang syne,
saying, “He’ll come if I keep on targeting him,”
no he won’t, because there is a her
different from you, never trapped in
an antechamber of scorn, unable to
find the room of light, and while she lies
next to me, I’ve lost all ounce of respect
for you, and have thereby emancipated
myself from all your mind games, and so, I say
this with finality, with a sardonic for
auld lang syne, “I never loved you,
and I never will”, and these are the
sincerest, truest words that have emerged
from my mouth, after ages, and they’re
stamped with a permanent signature,
with something added that says, “You’ll
never find your way into my lines anymore.”

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

Protected by Copyscape

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