19. i live it. so hate me.

if you only just asked me why i do it, i’d have told you it was out of insecurity.
if you asked me to stop, i’d say that  i couldn’t, though i tried.
if you begged me to stop hurting you… i’d break apart.

and the world is full of ifs, but there are facts too.
Y and X and Z and you, it seems, are not enough for me.
it only seems, because i don’t really know. it seems, because there’s a new actor on the stage. and i don’t know him much, but he can raise the butteflies in my stomach. and we flirted, maybe even courted, a little bit today. in front of you. and i thought your heart would break, but i couldn’t stop it, i couldn’t not laugh at every joke he said or smile at him like i smile at you.

so hate me.

and sometimes i wish you would. but you don’t, because you love me. you don’t because you’re better than me. but then again, is that really true? or are you holding on because you’re scared to let go?

if i were to tell you that i’ll never be yours, will you still be there in the morning, smiling at me, carrying my folders, love radiating in every gesture?
would you still want to hold me and never let go?
would you understand and accept me as i am, knowing that the day will come when i will leave the nest you’ve made me and fly away into another’s arms?

and i can’t put it into words, but i’ve found a poem that does.
it’s not mine, i just wish it was. and i love it.
i live it.

have a read. love it too.
but don’t live it please, cos i’m not as strong as you.

i couldn’t take you leaving me.
i’d  be the first to leave you.


I Scandalize Myself

I must tell my father
that the only man for whom “desire shattered me”
looked exactly like him,

and tell my friends
that I have different pictures of myself,
all true, all me,
that I will distribute among them one at a time.

I must tell my lover,
“Be grateful for my infidelities.
Without them
I wouldn’t have waited all this time
to discover the exceptional pause in your laugh.”

As for me
I am almost certain
that I scandalize myself
to hide behind it.

Iman Mersal

and that’s the poem. don’t you just love it?
don’t you just?


5 responses to “19. i live it. so hate me.

  1. That is so steeped in emotion. So poignant, I found it compelling and yet really hard to read without feeling so sad for both of you. The poem is fantastic, I really loved it.

  2. That was more than amazing.. what you wrote and the poem as well..

  3. The poet is an Egyptian woman.. i like that :)

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