• Anna Brozek

Jealousy



So I’ve turned to pen and paper now, my only recluse.

If I don't release here and now

I swear I will implode

into a vicious black hole

and take the whole world with me.


O the rush of rage

when I see her screaming at him

with her eyes

begging for love.

When I see a hug

held for millions of years too long......................

the arms of my lover

O how sweet they feel

wrapping around her body

she wishes I wasn't here.

I do too.

The facade is shallow

it’s transparent to me

snare remarks, distant stabs

her skipping gaze hiding bitterness

and lost competition.

But there is no competition here

we are women, we are sisters

I am here for you, but I will not apologise for whom I love

why can't you see that


The reservation of intimacy

no curiosity about my life

or even enough to pretend.

Never asking personal details

or even a ‘how are you’ while looking in the eye

and expecting a genuine response.

Robotic responses, robotic defences

pile more lead on the wall.



Sometimes all I want to do is

disappear

...............

and pretend I never existed.

Sometimes I see my mind

finding faults in perfect moments

and I wonder if I will ever be truly happy.


Other times I sit there and

feel peace and joy

engulfing my existence

in awe-ful gratitude, for breathing and feeling.


How is it that we can taste two oceans of fervour and apathy

worlds apart

how many worlds are inside me


A sweet, loving trance takes over

when I think about the way he looks at me

touches me

kisses me and calls me his muse.


When I think about the fact that

atoms came from a point like this .

and solid matter is an illusion

nothing ever stops moving

ever

it’s all shaking and

dancing

the border of my skin is

just a few billion cells

constantly interchanging

like flying bricks moving in and out of a wall

like the entrance to 9/3’4 station

that my eyes can see through light

and if there were no light

nothing

would exist.

Because without light there is no darkness

and without a heart that can be hurt

and squeezed in inadequacy

and hurled in embarrassment

and stabbed in jealousy


then we wouldn’t have a heart

to celebrate with

to pick a flower with

to persevere and fight with

to make love with


A heart to encompass

the meaning of our lives

and guide us through the great

illusion

making dirty jokes along the way.

Disembroiling the greasy tangle of jealousy

means not running away,

it means looking in the eye

of the person who's twisting the knife in your chest

and saying, I see you.

it means putting spite on the side


It means processing our own emotions

so we don't do fucked-up shit

it means asking yourself:

'hey, why do you want to headbutt that wall

or drown yourself in a public fountain'


you'll most likely hate the answer

because it makes you vulnerable


but it turns out

I'm just in love

and maybe so is she

If I can feel this way.........

of course she can too.


and I hate that answer too

I want to say:

Fuck you

for taking your hurt out

in this passive aggressive, backhanded, poisonous way


but it turns out

that's just a wound

a wound thats hurting

a wound that challenges us to find new ways to heal


we inflict this pain on each other.....

it's not pointless

It's a chance to find a different kind of love

a love that's there for everyone

the only medicine.

the only truth.

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