Shots of Love

by Pamela Chavdarova

I am told to move on, repeatedly by most,

Time will heal (it will not erase the time we’ve spent)

One day I will be in gratitude

(To my inner self, her voice I listened)

Now I am imprisoned (I hate him—I miss him more)

(The way he talks, he walks, all the more)

I long to see him with the corner of my eye

(While I am learning to look ahead with my head up high)

I miss him, he has a part of me with him

He can keep it,

Maybe, someday again, he will find me again (not by coincidence)

Return what he took away, without consent or care to cherish it,

Just in case, just because he cares, just a little, but, he will not admit it 

He doesn’t believe love can last, even though he turned his back—

An experience to him, and to me, a half-finished dream

Despite of all,

I love him more than he can love himself,

Despite the signs and hearsay, it is unreasonable to feel this way

My heart cares for him still, my mind preoccupied with him,

Irrational and stupid I may be, but full with courage I am,

I will pray for him, to be blessed and cursed, to love a person

Who has not earned it, to have faith in them despite their constant actions,

To have faith in them while they have none for themselves, or respect,

To love them while they tarnish every piece of kindness you’ve spared, selflessly

(I hope someday he feels the same, just for me and no one else)

Let it be in many years after I have written this and the earlier ones—

This shall be my curse towards him,

Despite of all, he needs to know,

Love is a battlefield, you shoot or get shot.