II

02/02/21

II

Dear Love, I hope this letter greets you well
 
I remember hearing your "I Love You" for the time
I guess you didn't hear the splinters of glass as my heart shuttered
my defenses breaking down
you invading my space—
 
you never knew your place
you never played your role
you were just supposed to be a groupie
but I found myself confiding in you
and I found peace in your hands as you molded my darkness
and kissed my brokenness
 
...obviously I curled myself into a ball
tried to escape to my familiarity
for you had stood there in front of me
willing me to open up more than the poetic side
or perverted side
more than I was ever willing to show
 
After your first "I love you"
I had already decided that you were more of an expense than an asset to me
I had already decided that meeting you was a mistake
I would soon block you out of my life, disappear and never talk to you again
 
I didn't sleep that night, like most other nights
I found myself thinking about you
and I knew instantly that it will be the hardest thing ever,  
to rid myself of you,
   hard but it had to be done!
 
I smoked
...it was the only way I knew how to remain sane
yet you never ceased to disappear from my mind
I smoked again
and again
and again
...it only surfaced to my mind that I had overdose
when I laid down on the floor
floating in my own sky of thoughts
of time past  
and time now  
and time that never was
but by some grace I regained my consciousness—
 
I wrote a poem that day (to the stranger I met today, voetsek)
I didn't know what love was
or what it meant to "I love you"
but I knew it was a weakness
a vulnerability that can always be used against you
or at least that's what the brotherhood taught me—
 
I cannot recount on the collection of events that led me to you again the following day
because my mind had already been made up
but I guess curiosity got the best of me
and I was both at peace and in fear
at peace that you are not just another groupie,
in fear that i could not classify you.
 
That day I heard another one of your "I love you"
and on every other day after that
"I love you"
"I love you"
"I love you"
was now the poetry that lingered in my heart
threatening to devour my whole being
take over my existence
invade my space
"I love you"
soon became a familiarity
as soon as I could accept the words without their meaning
 
I got used to them that I shrieked a little lesser each time I heard you say them
Then you went a step further
with wet bubbly kisses to my cheeks
sending shivers to my bones
and threatening to disarm me once more
and I couldn't let you see how you affected me  
You did it again and again and again
Until "I love you" with a kiss on the cheek
was a familiar farewell line
 
"It all started with dirty poetry (dear Santa)
To late nights in long taxi queues
Open mic session at OUTIE CAFE
To Furnace Theatre
To drunkard confessions
and disappearance acts"
 
Durban was a runaway place
The poetic tour a perfect escape
then there was Bloemfontein (Poets in Suits)
then there was Rustenburg, rehab!
then there was Centurion
then I learnt that you had gone away  
stranded in Pretoria
on your way to Zimbabwe
and I only gained contact when you were in Zambia—
 
I guess it only surfaced then that I might never see you again!