it is not funny
it is true
that the more you hate the more you love the person that you love
try to eject
the person that you love from your system
eject, junk, spit, defecate
whatever you do
something in you is already missing
because loving is loving and it is
not:
ejecting but embracing
junking but keeping
spitting but swallowing
defecating but the eating of the pudding and the nourishing
try hating love and it always comes back to you
not to shame you
but always to love you again
to make you meek and gentle
to make you cry and smile
to make you all too human, vulnerable, weak and so forgiving
and something too hard on you as hate
becomes too soft
as gelatin
with lots of sugar and honey and milk and grapes and peach and
red red cheries on top of everything
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem