I was stricken by the wind of delusion when I asked you to hold my hand as we lied under the sky full of stars until the sun chased the darkness. I was drunk when I offered cans of beers on the walnut table upstairs at the roof top as we danced with fire flies. We were sharing a plate of crisp French Fries dipped in a seasoned pureed condiment called Heinz Tomato Ketchup like the taste of revenge on your lips. It was a lie that I was surprised when you served a hypnotic bowl of mouthwatering Classic Tomato Spaghetti and Basil Sauce paired with baked macaroni and shredded roast pork sandwich and these convinced me that I was hungry after all.
I was wrong when you caught me say “I love you” while sleep stole my consciousness as I traced every detail of your face. So let me open my eyes and hear me say, “I’m sorry but I can’t love what I can’t.”