She is Her, but Not Her

He walked towards her nervously.
She stands infront of him,
wearing that smile that mesmerized him years ago – until now-,
her eyes looking at him, boring into his soul.
She walked towards him, his chest heaving, muscles tensing.

Ah – that swing of neck.
The gracious movements of her arms, the sway of her hips.
All takes him back to the days
when she was his.

How long has it been? How many years had he counted?
He could no longer remember.
All he knows is that no matter how long,
his heart still belongs to her, from then until always.

She said hi, and hugs him.
Oh, her voice that seems like muses singing a song of peace,
Her arms holding him makes him cradled by insanity.
He hugged her back, breathing her in.
That sweet scent of warm vanilla fills his nose,
intoxicating him.
She felt so soft and fragile in his arms,
like how she was an eternity ago.

Oh! He missed her.
He missed  her genuine smiles, her soft chuckles, and frantic laughters.
He missed the way she looks at him.
Oh God, he missed everything about her.
Now she stands infront of him, no longer a figment of his imagination.
He can’t help but hug her once more, which she reciprocated.

They sat down and talked, and he can’t help but look at her.
He smiled at her, she took his hand…
At her touch, he succumbed to lunacy.

She kissed him. He kissed her back.
Her soft lips still tastes like aged wine.
He held her close to him, uttering gratitude to the Holy Ghost,
she held him passionately.
Ah – he loved the way his body fit perfectly to hers.
Yin and yang, they are,
as their souls sang in unison and their freedom exalts them to the heights of their passion

They kissed and touched, ravaging at each other.
As if their hunger is insatiable, as if life depended on the other.

Then, in a blink of an eye, she changed.
Her kisses no longer taste of wine, became stale.
Her hugs that cradled his soul seemed distant.
Her movements that seemed were his, became foreign to him…
Everything became different, when reason started to sink in.

He looked at her eyes, they were no longer brown, but green.
In her eyes, he tried to locate the soul who owned his heart,
but she is no longer there.

She looks like her, but not like her.
She seemed like a monster staring back at him –
one that he created by virtue of the pain he caused her.
Deep within the soul were guilt, jealousy, lies.
And as he tried to listen to the beating of her heart, its music is no longer the same.
The thud sounded like anger, of revenge.
The heart that once sang of his name began reverberating someone else’s tune.
She is her, but not her.

Upon realizing that he was used,
that she is gone forever,
he stood up.
Looked at her one last time and wiped a tear from his eyes,
he took steps away from her.

Now he is no longer guilty, as his mistakes were forgiven.
He no longer feels regret knowing that she became someone he can’t see himself with.
His heart can only hope that one day he would find her,
the real her.
Yet again, her hands were also stained,
she gave up and succumbed to the void within her.

He walked away with no remorse now,
because she is her, but not her.

© CMN

~~~~~~~~~
Was he me or was I her?

Author’s note: This poem won “The Celebrate Poet of 2010” via Jingle’s Thursday Poetry Rally. (Thanks Ji, it is always a pleasure.)

Celebrate Poet of 2010

He walked towards her nervously.
She stands infront of him,
wearing that smile that mesmerized him years ago – until now-,
her eyes looking at him, boring into his soul.
She walked towards him, his chest heaving, muscles tensing. 

 

Ah – that swing of neck.
The gracious movements of her arms, the sway of her hips.
All takes him back to the days
when she was his.

How long has it been? How many years had he counted?
He could no longer remember.
All he knows is that no matter how long,
his heart still belongs to her, from then until always.

She said hi, and hugs him.
Oh, her voice that seems like muses singing a song of peace,
Her arms holding him makes him cradled by insanity.
He hugged her back, breathing her in.
That sweet scent of warm vanilla fills his nose,
intoxicating him.
She felt so soft and fragile in his arms,
like how she was an eternity ago.

Oh! He missed her.
He missed  her genuine smiles, her soft chuckles, and frantic laughters.
He missed the way she looks at him.
Oh God, he missed everything about her.
Now she stands infront of her, no longer a figment of his imagination.
He can’t help but hug her once more, which she reciprocated.

They sat down and talk, and he can’t help but look at her.
He smiled at her, she took his hand…
At her touch, he succumbed to lunacy.

She kissed him. He kissed him back.
Her soft lips still tastes like aged wine.
He held him close to him, uttering gratitude to the Holy Ghost,
she held him passionately.
Ah – he loved the way his body fit perfectly to hers.
Yin and yang, they are,
as their souls sang in unison and passion exhalts them to the heights of passion…

They kissed and touched, ravaging at each other.
As if their hunger is insatiable, as if life depended on the other.

Then, in a blink of an eye, she changed.
Her kisses no longer taste of wine, became stale.
Her hugs that cradled his soul seemed distant.
Her movements that seemed were his, became foreign to him…
Everything became different, when reason started to sink in.

He looked at her eyes, they were no longer brown, but green.
In her eyes, he tried to locate the soul who owned his heart,
but she is no longer there.

She looks like her, but not like her.
She seemed like a monster staring back at him –
one that he created by virtue of the pain he caused her.
Deep within the soul were guilt, jealousy, lies.
And as he tried to listen to the beating of her heart, its music is no longer the same.
The thud sounded like anger, of revenge.
The heart that once sang of his name began reverberating someone else’s tune.
She is her, but not her.

Upon realizing that he was used,
that she is gone forever,
he stood up.
Looked at her one last time and wiped a tear from his eyes,
he took steps away from her.

Now he is no longer guilty, as his mistakes were forgiven.
He no longer feels regret knowing that she became someone he can’t see himself with.
His heart can only hope that one day he would find her,
the real her.
Yet again, her hands were also stained,
she gave up and succumbed to the void within her.

He walked away with no remorse now,
because she is her, but not her.