Monthly Archives: June 2014

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Je Suis Mon Coeur BrisĂ©

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I am not me.

This has become my truth after a string of sleepless night, when I do nothing but to stare at her hollow eyes, the ghostly wanness of her cheeks, her chapped lips. There’s only one thing tumbling in her head — that is to satisfy her corporeal selfishness, to quench her thirst of drinking the sight of him. 

I still continue doing the wrong deed. I can’t do anything about it. An act of contrition would not suffice everything that I’ve done. I cannot redress my sins. I’m still breathing –alive– but my soul, my precious soul is being whelmed in the fires of hell. Without a doubt, they are waiting to savor it.

Inches Away

He was just standing there with a blank expression. I was aware that I’d die first before touching him. Funny it may seem, but I cannot even lay a finger on him. These hands will just make him filthy.

I swallowed a small lump that gathered in my throat. I budged at the thing he was leaning on. I couldn’t see the body, but I know who was resting in there. I went near the casket, with a remorseful face.  I wept and pretended to care. I’m such a good actress. Then he stared at me. Those cold, piercing eyes that I loved focused on green orbs of mine. He tried to give me a genuine smile, but turned out sour.

My heart skipped a beat by his sudden action. I smirked. He gave me hope. A silver lining.

Broken

Time passed, I’m in my confinement. He was all I could think about. I needed a plan. He was more important than the air I breathe, more valuable than my money and bequest combined. I needed to think.  I needed to see him. I needed him. I had hope that he would think of me also, the way I mulled over for him. Maybe not, he has a family. I knew he was happy. He really was. Married to a faithful wife who happened to be my best friend. Cliche? Yes it is. I chuckled at the idea. Bitterly. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy, boy falls in love with girl’s best friend, girls’s best friend and boy got married. Such a fucking pattern.

Je suis mon coeur brisé, I am my broken heart.

It hurt like hell. The idea that they’re going to get married shattered me. I’ve lost my sanity on that moment. My father even called my best friend to check on me. Seeing her made me think of horrible things. I just want to rip, slash, gash every inch of her. She didn’t know the toil I was going through.

But no, I couldn’t hurt her nor him. I loved them both. Yes, I loved them.

Recurrence

The image of their wedding haunted me every night. I envied and hated my best friend for having the most cherished thing I ever wanted. Then the idea crossed my mind. I have fabricated a plan. An awful plan.  Of course, giving up is not a part of my lexicon. I am insane.

I set up my own wedding.

Being the daughter of a business tycoon had its own perks. I allowed myself to agree in an arranged marriage. The man was fond of me. Yes, he is striking and kind, but he was no match for the man I truly loved.

He attended my wedding. How I wish he was the man I’m going to marry, but not. The man who is holding me right now is not him. You were just a part of my plan, I thought.

My husband loved me deeply. At some point, I should end my obsession here, but I can’t. He was a part of my plan. He was just a part of a fucking, horrid plan.

The Plan

This was just the start. My first’s love image ignited me again. I hired assassins, my incredible minions. I paid them as much as I could —  just to follow my orders. I ordered them to shed my best friend’s family members one by one.

Funeral

In every funeral, I was there. As expected, he was there, sharing sympathy with his wife. My selfishness crushed them, but the satisfaction brought certain pleasure within me. My minions’ work was clean. They didn’t even know that I’m the mastermind behind all these killings.

The next victim, my husband. I indirectly killed my husband. My egocentricity crushed him. Blood splattered all over the bed due to that one, single bullet. His eyes, hollow. I just gave him a peck on the lips, and said thank you. I’ve been an appalling person to him. I couldn’t even say sorry.

At the burial of my husband, he was also there. I’ve been looking for the shadow of his wife, but there was none. All of a sudden, he enveloped me in his arms. The first in a very long time. All I wanted was to melt in him. The warmth emanating from him sent shivers all over my body. I wanted to stay like that. The very first time I feel secured, loved. In that moment, I cried. I buried my face into his chest. Tears continued to flow. The things I’ve done dredged up on my mind. I’m such a ghastly person. I screamed. I’ve seen myself submerge in the fires of hell. And everything went black.

Forlorn

Here in my room, staring at my mirror. This has become my truth after a string of sleepless night, when I do nothing but to stare at her hollow eyes. Oh well.

I get a hold of my own gun… Perhaps a funeral for me would do. Perhaps, he would cry for me on that day, he would cry for me — the way I cried for him my whole life.

 

 

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Reality

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Yearning, lingering, longing

Fleeting memories.

Jubilant feelings,

Turned to be sad melodies.

 

Shattered, fragile, broken

Am I going to be mad?

Coldness started to dwarf,

Silence enfolded us.

 

Hurt, torn, empty

Why did this happen to me?

Wasn’t  I right for you or was not meant to stay?

Instead you turned your head, and left, and walked away.

 

Pain, agony, grief

The pain – it was impossible to take.

But as fate chose,

I met only remorse –

 

In a million ways…

(I made this poem while doing a horrid story. Didn’t expect this to happen. Haha. I’m clouded with too many ideas.)

This poem is open for criticisms. 🙂