“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.”― Mahatma Gandhi

Be advised that I take artistic license in the expressions and creations I present in my posts. Forewarned is forearmed, proceed at your own risk.

Freakingnews

“Listening for the chirp, the space sounds of my phone

Everything stops when it rings,

My whole body tense, waiting for the vibration of her call

Everything stops when I wait for her

Early morning when it rings, I open my eyes

Everything stops when I wake to her

A text, proclaiming her rejection of me

Everything stops when I understand

She is with my friend, he is fucking her

Everything stops when I kill”

– Everything Stops, D.M.W. Sager

I take a deep breath. Jealousy. A cruel and unrelenting task master, holding me hostage, threatening my lover with violence. How quickly love turns to anger and hate. How quick the one you love can turn and violate you. Love excels at changing both itself and others. I watch as I leave all I know about myself and life; all my beliefs fall to the wayside as I follow hard after what I “love”. I watch my identity crumble in my pursuit, it consumes me. There’s no escape from its hold, the arms of another fan the flames into white hot tongues of searing pain. I compromise my safety, stepping into the line of fire, nothing will prevent me from protecting my love. It’s not a person that I protect, it’s my feelings. When I find that it’s my love that I follow, not her, conviction binds me. Love is separate in this deranged sense. Love becomes a living entity in me, demanding I make room for it, controlling my actions and thoughts. Love must be constrained by other rules to keep it in check and keep it pure. I must rise above it. Love, pure good and pure evil. It disguises itself, hiding among other feelings and manifesting in the strangest of ways. The vilest thoughts arise out of “love”. Beware of love uncontrolled, it’ll easily lead to destruction, agony, and death. Motives that should be pure, become tainted, then, suddenly, drastically, everything stops.

“Do you know what its like to lie in wait for someone? To settle yourself in the cold drizzle of winter, controlling the shivers, quiet, the gun by your side? Eyes strained to see movement in the blackness, heart pumping from adrenalin of the chase. Do you know what it’s like to wait to kill the one you love?” – The Specter Of Love

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

02272012