Formulas and Cowardice
A Poem Inspired by a Dear Friend of Mine
We’ve talked about this matter before, that gap between life and that which maybe could have been a life. Some of our words stuck to us like a wishbone stuck in the throat, and in no way, no matter how hard we try, would we ever be able to cough it out.
I ask myself, how much longer are you going to resist your natural temptations, the science of reality? We are chemically compatible and physically attracted to one another. What part of that do you not understand?
You have a formula for everything, which I had hung on your refrigerator that morning at your place under my telephone number. You never once called me since then. Maybe your telephone died, or perhaps your refrigerator exploded, causing absolute chaos in the kitchen.
Maybe you met some attractive firefighter who came to put out the fire caused by the exploded refrigerator in the kitchen and forgot all about my formula, my phone number, and the unknown—what could have been.
But maybe that firefighter left absolute chaos in your heart because that firefighter went to put out fires in other homes, in hopes of igniting passionate flames in the hearts of new potential love interests.
That’s how it goes.
But maybe I’m the crazy one; for I’m constantly coming up with written explanations so that I wouldn’t have to walk the 4-5 streets it takes to get to your apartment. I’m writing this so that I wouldn’t have to explain it to you personally.
I wrote that formula and hung it on your refrigerator. And you decided not to so much as take a peek at it.
I would want nothing more than the courage of a gladiator so that I can look a ferocious beast in the eye. But I have the cowardice of a writer and all my strength is woven in these empty words. So then, I’m the guilty one in this case.
That’s how it goes.
And who knows where you even are. Who knows who’s kissing you now and breaking your heart later. You were not made for them. That formula I wrote out for you has and always will stay the same, even if you and I change more and more with every given day. They will continue to hurt you, and you will continue holding onto them until you shatter.
I will continue to write explanations that you will never read. I will continue, with these words, to wage this cruel and never-ending war.
And we will never find each other.