A poem about obsessive, unrequited love.

Creative Voices

By Muhammad Sufiyan Salman || Edited by Indea Windust

I don’t have any other words to say this.   

I don’t have any more air in my lungs to set aflame  

I don’t have any more dreams to double-cross under the jury of your Gemini fallacies  

I don’t have any more seconds to sink into heartbreaks that hesitate to honor my honesty  

I sleep with your name kissing a mercurial memory on my lips I lie beneath this lunar apocalypse and etch your face into the 

celestial tragedies that eclipse  

Into pandemonium’s that pacify my pessimism until I pray my life away  

I scribble into notebooks until I have histories that forsake my lives into nirvanas of nihilism I can’t wish away  

I dig into the cavity in my chest until my heart is in the altar of  

my cupped hands, offering  

My seams and hinges that are sifting away into cigarette cinders that settle into dust moths that shadow my shame, faltering I place the throbbing flesh onto the marbles of bathroom sinks and before mirrors that avert their gaze  

And wash it with wine to absolve me of sins that simmer beneath my every phrase  

Handwritten notes taped onto hardcovers of books that are memorialized into mausoleums christening your touch

Pupils dilate, and I can see paroxysms of kaleidoscopic clandestine cornucopias that rivet this ravenous rush  

I lie beneath the sequined glow of the blood-lit moon Penning Shakespearean love affairs into bylines of diaries that  

have left me masochistic and marooned  

Millenniums mustered into melodic maladies that muffle my melancholic murmurs for you to stay  

Every heart drawn with fingers on windowpanes bejeweled with dew and aching lust that leave me prey  

To whorish vulgarities that scream your name into the cynical nirvanas of the night sky  

I am faithless, I am hopeless, I am listless, I am gone  

Into the orisons that are addressed to the symphonic serendipity of your saccharine sigh  

I want you to love me. I want you to want me. I want you to see me. I want you to be me. I want you to try  

I want the bewitching hour to haunt me, to taunt me, to daunt me until I am burnt to ashen crimson crowning my callous whys

This eternal damnation; divine for all its delinquent daze and lethargic lies cascades into a dominion that is deadly when it dies

I want to tie your sinews into ribboned knots until I can see my parasitic psychotic paranoia in your bloodshot eyes  

I want to seep into your bones; a septic lethal elixir to elucidate  

every desperation of your deathly high  

I don’t know any other words to say this  

I don’t have any more delusion in my soul to threat and to blame I don’t have any more embers to ignite under the justice of your juxtaposed mortalities  

I don’t have any more patience to sit cross-legged on linoleum floors waiting for fate to maim you into my necrophiliac moralities  

My heart is greyish ghoulish gaslit grief on the shrine of your piteous embrace  

I catch you looking at me, over your shoulder, cascading down cardinal causeways  

Whispering, ‘I love you’ into the skin of a tearstained bedside pillow  

Your luster will be runed ramifications under my villainous willow  

The Bewitching Hour will forsake me forever as it sets me free, I will have your deciduous desire drinking vapors of my septic sea  

Evanescence will corrode your being until you’re mine to claim

You will have no more to give when you will be mine to shame  

Lockets to grace the magentas on the porcelain of your neck  

Licked wounds to wipe away holy sanctums of every scarlet spec  

Kneel before every god but you won’t be able to deny this kiss  

Oh, beautiful creature, I don’t know any other words to say this.