It’s not that I don’t know,
I just fear the reality of what I could lose.
I know your heart is diverse in its sense of commitment,
I could replenish your unbearable egotistic acts
with as much love as I can give,
But my reward will always be seclusion.

I am excluded in your every revelation of prosperity,
Maybe I’m colour blind
‘cause your mistreatment is vivid enough, like robot lights.
We had a reservation that landed you a conversation
with another figure of your short-lived sensations.
I contemplate in your absence with my bags by the door,
still no locomotive motive in the wheels of my liberation.
What a prerogative you must have?
I sense my stupidity is running out of beans of existence,
‘cause I spoke to the stars last night.

I do not love you, I just endure the pain
‘cause I hate solitude more than I hate loving you.
Last night I felt like a muse, my patience has a lower threshold.
I know I loved you, but now it’s not clear why.