things i couldn’t tell you: pieces from an incomplete love story

By Lamia Rahman

A series of poems offer a small window into a passionate and debilitating relationship, of which our narrator discloses the intricacies and afflictions of the love she endured.

ⅰ. when i loved you

i do and say all of the wrong things
i am a klutz, an idiot
i am fumbly with my words
but so were you
the only difference is
i like the things you say

—

oh, how i fantasize about our meeting
when we do. where we do.
i hope it’s somewhere nice 
and i was only a bit older, and you were younger
and there wasn’t miles and years and things out of our control separating us
i can only tell my love through these hidden words
and i know you despise poems
but would you give mine a chance?

it doesn’t matter, these words are too sacred and real to say 
and my mouth might get me in trouble
so i’ll keep it here, unread
but what’s the point when it’s as clear as day

one day
i’ll be able to know the warmth of your skin
the curves of your smile
the blue in your eyes
and taste of your mouth

it’s wildly inappropriate
but you’re mine in my head
and that’s all i choose to handle right now
these words are brave enough.

one day
i’ll be there
and you’ll be here
and we will be everywhere, but not together

maybe my words will resurface
by then, i’ll be drunk enough on my loopiness to do so

ⅱ. when you were mine

can it be 3am forever? right here and now
can we stay frozen in time, just you and i
when the world is half asleep
and our eyes, half closed
our lips, swollen and puckered 
our bodies, flushed

can we stay like this forever?
with our fingers intertwined and our souls locked in
where i can feel the beating of your nervous heart 
and i can only answer with the trepid rhythm of my own
where our breaths contain unspoken truths
that we love each other
here and now
can it be 3am for all of our lives together?

ⅲ. when we broke apart

i saw a person today
i wanted to collapse, as if gravity was rebelling against me
but i stood there, sat there, did whatever i could to stay still
as i saw your cheshire smile
delightful and goofy, as if laughter lived within your muscles.
when they left, i was scared i’ll never see you again
but i see you everywhere now
 and my brain is no longer doing me any favors


ⅳ. when i was yours

you have left me 
gasping for air 
when i drowned with your silence
and you teased me like i was a foolish cat
red light bouncing everywhere, like your words at every nerve in my brain
and then i’d hear them ringing in my ears, see them tattooed underneath my eyelids
and soon, bleeding through my wounds
and then i feel your breath and my eyes flutter and my hair stands
and then i remember the red light, and i wondered where it was
until i realize you shone it right at me, scoring a hole right through me

—

instead of ripping into my chest and taking my heart out,
 leaving it defenseless and me lifeless
you kept your hand in, and squeezed until it burst
your hand bloody and me left with the damage
there is no longer a heart to be seen
you made sure of it

—

i once thought bitterness was the absence of taste
to never experience the sweetness of honey and saltiness of cheese
an absolute tragedy
but really, it’s just an unwelcome and nasty sharpness 
that erases the beauty of mint and vanilla on your tongue 

i once believed bitterness was the absence of goodwill and kindness
but it is not just that. it’s the spite and rage that lived in your bone and blood
humanity never lived there, you’ve never known of it
i apologize for being so crass 
but i’m afraid i don't know how else to talk to you
i think i was meant to meet you
so i wouldn’t ever dare be curious of what i’m without

ⅴ. when i began to heal

i will tell you a story 
of when i found myself the most beautiful
i was at my lowest, having been strung out of tears
my voice strained and gone, my body weak and fatigued
my hair drenched with tears or sweat or drool
my clothes rumpled
when i finally composed myself, 
i looked at the mirror and the person i see 
felt almost uninvited but not unwelcome
she was a maniacal joke
she didn’t look vulnerable or fragile
even with her soft lips
and although she had frazzled hair and bruised cheeks
with her glossed over reddened eyes 
she was resilient 
this isn’t a travesty and i refuse to lie to you.
with sincerity,
it felt like the universe gave me a present
 “here, you went through the worst of it
you survived.
see how luminous you are, having fought all of that
you got this.”
i wish i could see this particular beauty less, but my comfort lies in the
most arbitrary entities

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