Give give me a bomb, not love.
Give me the 'tick-tick boom'
And not the ceaseless
Give me the sudden stroke of mortality
And spare me the cruel sentence
Of death by sleepless nights and nicotine
Bereft of dreams
Let it blow up mercilessly
Shredding me to pieces
I can never put back together.
Re-arranging a heart
Is too much like re-arranging furniture.
We bleed and tire uselessly over something
That never quite fits, is never quite right
And never quite feels like home again.
Make it bloody and messy
And the stains permanent,
Reminders that there once was life,
Not clean and cold
As if untouched, unbothered, unloved.
And as it tears me apart
Let it also tear down
This house of ghosts to the ground.
If you do choose to give me love,
Then let it be like a Bomb
Without complications, questions,
Prejudices and conditions.
Let it travel light
With no excesses and excuses
As it bursts in a quickened flash
May it offer no apologies and simply state
"Because I am a bomb."
Let it not hesitate over pride
Nor waste its time over nonsenses
That it can neither control or predict.
Let it go off with all conviction
And attempt to leave as little of itself
But much of its effect.
Let it shatter all mirrors and illusions
That reflect wrinkles and lines and measures of waistlines
And let it know no other choice than to explode
And let it explode.