If Missing You Was Something Else
Prose poem
If missing you was an act recognized as a heinous crime, I would have been flogged to death by the world, and the universe would have thrown me away like a cigarette butt. However, I would still miss the taste of fireworks in your mouth even though it blisters my chapped lips and nips the way I called your name in my sleep.
If the act of missing you was a curse that ended up shortening my lifespan, I would have been buried six feet under — shortly after you stormed out of my life without any warning. Despite it all, from beneath the graveyard, I would still dream of your warmth enshrouding me during those unforeseeable and unforgiving winters.
If the act of missing you was a mistake that I had to pay for a lifetime by closing all my doors for anyone else, I would have taken all the measures not to let anybody come near our ruined house. Even after loneliness chewed me up, I would still long for the stardust you left on my hair whenever your fingers ran through it. And although the reminiscence of us could shatter what’s left within me into a million pieces, I would even go as far as making a pact with the moon to lend me a space for our memories of each other to grow immortal.
If missing you was an act deemed as walking through hell, I would voluntarily give all my oceans and autumn rains, then allow my bones to get cradled by wildfire made of our wounds. I would let my skin get caressed by a puff of smoke bearing deep regrets. After all, my whole being has always been prone to heartbreaks and has been closer to burning into ashes than melting into midnight mist.
If the act of missing you was the start of calamity, thus bringing forth the prime source of my misery, I would have lived in nightmares and got tortured for every second I breathed. Yet, I would still crave your future to collide with mine;
To be a part of your unplanned adventures, along with being a petal that completes your garden of blue tulips. To be your most loved subject in your best photographs collection, likewise being your favorite color in every scratch of your painting. To be the song you would never get tired of listening to in your personalized playlist, and correspondingly being a word you’d never forget to insert in all your love poetry.
