Forgive Me, Love Poem by Samah Khan

NOTE: this poem carries a special significance for me because I left someone I cared about only because I thought it would make him happier...

Forgive me love,
I do not write these words to cause you grief-
Grief, that on my account has already been great;
I write only to mend fences around land that has grown far too steep
With but jagged rocks at the end as our fate

If I were to cry and make a sea
I'd pray you'd come and weep in me
So that when my time to drown draws near,
We would finally become one, if only by tears.
I will not be your rose from another's garden,
Nor will I let you be the dandelion that blew away,
I will either have it all-hear me out-or none
I will not allow my love to go astray.

I have much to mourn:
I have lost the one who is privy to my every thought
And in my arrogance I have lost a country as well;
I am only an inch of my life from losing my religion-
And be known as heathen, traitorous: an infidel.
I cannot lose you too-and cry at a premature funeral
For I detest tears (you know that) and I detest you
For making me seek comfort in all that I detest
And losing faith in all I hold true.
I have murdered the poet that bred within me
For she spoke too loud for the comfort of my ears;
She blind sighted me and cornered my deepest darkest emotions
And was far too well aware of my every fear;

Thus I silenced her as I now am you
And you call me cold for I am sterile-
But what could I know of being cold when I know not warmth-
I swear to you, I am without pretence or wile.
The barrenness of being alone for far too long
Gives root to my penchant for seeking solace with you day upon day;
Comfort knows neither bounds nor right and wrong
But knows only to catch a bird by its wing to stop it from flying away;

Now I leave
And you ask yourself why
You blame me, blame women for their femininity
'Damn eyes and lips and hands! '
But in your heart you know you are free of guilt
And it is I who should be damned.
I left of my own free will
Because I could not bear the thought of losing you;
And if I let you go before you realize my ineptness
I might have longer time to rot and rue.

I see your profile standing on the bridge,
(Your eyes towards the water but your heart towards the sea)
One single-stemmed red rose upon your palm;
I have seen minutes turn to days and days turn to years
But I have not seen seconds pass by with such leisurely calm.

It did not hurt when you plucked each petal out and let it dropp to your feet-
(For that is like you trying to unravel my enigma)
It did not hurt when you separated the pollen from the stem-
(For that is like you stealing me away and setting me free)
It did not hurt when you kissed the top of the red bud-
(For that is as if you had kissed the pout of my lips)
But it hurt when you gathered the remains and did away with them-
(For then it was like you had finally given up on me)