The Poison and the Cure.

Love, I'm fascinated by you. Intrigued by how you affect people.
Are you a disease? If so, what is your cure?
You afflict the unsuspecting victim, and they are slaves to you for life!

I'm amazed by how you can turn sweaty palms derived from the nervousness of a first date into clenched fists of "I wanna punch this sonafab!tch!",

How you can turn " I love to watch you eat and sleep" into "I don't care if you starve and die",

How " I can't wait to see you" can quickly become " I hope you don't make it in",

How those precious vows can quickly become "I'm gonna get this negro/negress",

How you can go from feeling like a butterfly, light colorful and lovely into a vulture, Dark and Ugly.

How you can go from being their biggest fan, their cheerleader to wishing in your heart that they don't succeed.

How those eyes, glazed over with excitement and stars, damn they shine so bright when you're in love, don't they? You can light a thousand homes in Lagos city. How do they fill with so much hate and disgust?

Up and down, you take them. Round and round till they are sick to the stomach, then the cycle begins again.

At what point does the love die? At what point do you give up on loving that person?

Your heart is filled with so much hate and venom. It seems like you're stuck in a dark deep vortex. "I hate this b!tch!" You tell yourself. "I hate ALL b!tches!", "Men are dogs!" "I hate love", or so you think.

Hahahaha, love says. He laughs in derision, tormenting you, because you know he's right. Get over yourself. Soon, you'll be begging for my arrow to pierce your heart again. You will feen for that warm fuzzy feeling again. Your palms will get sweaty again, you will feel like a German machine again, like a butterfly again, you will soon only have words love on your lips for that girl/boy that you will meet. hahaha get over yourself, he says.

So after the tears have been shed, after you have gotten mad, then leveled the playing field by "gettin em", you step out again on hope and a prayer, hoping this time, love will be kind to you. That this will last forever. The pain is temporarily gone.

Love shakes his head and enjoys the game of chess. He sits back, rubs his hands in glee. You're only a pawn in his game. He throws back his shot of vodka.

Love, I'm fascinated by you. Intrigued by how you affect people.
Are you a disease? If so, what is your cure?
You afflict the unsuspecting victim, and they are slaves to you for life!

I am the poison AND the Cure, he says. Then lifts his glass in a toast to my utmost disbelief.

Beautiful Broken Man...

Don't you know...

That if I could be the weather man for just one day, I would make the sun shine bright for you, complete with the full spectrum of the rainbow?

That if I were an optician, I'd take the scale out of your eyes so you could see the beauty around you?

That if I were I a musician, I'd write you the most beautiful song and add the melody to take your pain away?

That if I were a surgeon, I'd give you a child's heart so you could learn to trust again?

That if I were a military sergeant, I would make you put down this shield that you hang on to so tight, so everyone could see your own beauty?

That if I were a time traveler, I'd take back those 72 steps that led me to the airport terminal on that January evening, 8yrs ago?

That if I were a herbalist, I'd conjure up some complicated concoction to purge you of this pain?

That if I were a gifted writer, I'd write you the most beautiful words to make you understand? I have to make you understand somehow..

For now, all I am is the woman who has caused you pain beyond measure. The one who painted your world beautiful like a cool spring day complete with butterflies, resting calmly on rare flowers, like the most genuine smile from someone who loves you, like a thousand butterflies erupted in your belly with a first kiss, like seeing the face of your first child, like winning the lottery after being broke for so long...Then I ripped your heart out, and left you hollow. Wreaking havoc on your beautiful canvas.

I hope that someway, I can make you understand that I never meant to cause you any pain. Life however had other plans.

I hope someday, you find that peace and someone puts the color back in your life. That she mends the many beautiful pieces of you, my beautiful broken man.

The End.

Awoof! Awoof!

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