What Could Have Been An Answer? Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is there
you do not really know why it is there

and it is doing you two things
it is indifferent
you like to touch it and make love with it
it does not know you
and it dislikes you like a food that is inside its mouth
and it wants to
vomit everything

that is the truth
the paradox of your self-proclaimed relationship
to yourself

love hate love hate
you want it to stay but you cannot hold on to it
it gives you
that feeling that this world is unending
but it ends
your world
the moment you mind it
even for a second

do not expect to understand

its wisdom is in not completely understanding it
if you know it well
it can kill you
because it is so sweet and to a certain extent
it becomes your own
poison

you remember it
you want to always remember it
because it makes your heart beat faster like a jumping gazelle

but it you remember it quite long
it becomes sharp as a knife
and starts slicing you heart apart
skin by skin

and so you give it away
set it free like a blue butterfly from your hand
you become so sad
tears are inside your eyes
wanting to burst like a dam of tons of water
raging upon rage itself

you are sad now
in fact sadder than sad

and no one can help you about it

you cannot tell anyone
because shame shames you like a reflection of your face in the mirror

and so you talk to yourself as though it is
another talking shadow beside your
shadow

from the light of the moon
tonight
you want to confront each other
drink lots of hard liqueur
and challenge it

what about dying together
this moment?

this second.