this is a love poem (until it isn't anymore) | kazuha

02

this is a love poem
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the wandering samurai who has left his homeland

i hold nothing dear. i have no home, no place to live, no people that bound me to a single area for longer than a weeks time. once i had someone, but he is long lost to time.

tomo, i had called him.

'tomo,'

i'd say with a crooked smile. laying down in a pile of overgrown grass, i peered up at the sword impaling the earth in which embraced me in its corpse. memories of the typical heavenly colored blue invaded my mind, sinking into an almost black and echoed a grief that is hardly human.

'i met this person whilst in the process of leaving inazuma,' i spoke aloud to the sword. 'they called me by name with a gentle look on their face and a steady tone in their voice. it was as if they had been the herald of spring coming to lull me to sleep with songs of april.'

'i almost mistook them for you,' i confessed quietly, afraid that the piece of metal and what lied beneath it would hear of my impertinence. the guilt in my chest would not allow me to gaze upon the grave even from the corner of my eye. aidos sunk her teeth deep into my skin and the invasion paralyzed me whole, leaving me worthless, hopeless, sick. i'm sick.

'i confuse politeness with care; i confuse care with love,' i admitted foolishly to the air. 'i confused their hand for yours and reached out to them only to have them recoil in return.'

i paused.

'i realized my mistake then.'

'i realized you're no longer by my side. i realized how much i've missed you in your absence,' i said solemnly though already long-established by everyone but me. 'i don't recognize you anymore. your hands remind me of theirs and my palms are warm with the absence of you.'

i had felt for once that i had begun to go forward with my life and the fact terrified me; i had been grown and afraid of light in contrast to a child afraid of the dark. it's unendurable, i remarked. i had forgotten how to properly breathe.

i held nothing dear, so let me breathe.

unknowingly, i had been coughing out flowers — zinnias and later carnations — but i could never admit this fact known only to me, not even to this unmarked grave. but i'll admit this: it always came back to them.

perhaps, they were a bright, eternal existence to me. their presence would never falter even when being far from my reach: they always had a way to circle my thoughts. i see them everywhere, in the stars, in the clouds, in the sun, in the sky; the reality of everything.

my rosy-fingered dawn; i cannot hope that their light which stretches vastly over the deep, salted seas reaches me. i cannot hope to touch the sky.

this indefinite desire burned from within me. i could feel it prickling underneath my skin, consolidating itself, aching my whole being. i fear that this longing will outlive me. i wanted them wildly like hunger. saliva dripped down from my canines and i'd search for them like a rabid dog searching for meat; like something that couldn't be worth the trouble of loving back. i wanted more than i ever deserved.

i want. i want. i want. i want. i want. 

i wanted them in secret, like it was a sin. how difficult. they were killing me and with the boundless laws of my heart, i declared that they had every right to. i am close to death and yet i still choose to suffer. i've done violence to myself in the name of them. i can still feel the ache within in my gut; it screams and pleas for them, but i would not allow myself to touch them with my own two hands as i wouldn't be able to touch the sky. is this what love feels like? i feel raw inside now.

i wanted love like a dieter choosing not to have dessert. i wanted it, yes; but would i allow myself of the luxury? no.

i am but icarus lacking courage: the fire within me would swallow me whole before i had even gained the confidence to fly. so, i won't try at all. i won't stay very long either. 

koizuha
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unedited