sometimes, i love you so much it isn't love. by Chide

By Chide

(Twitter: @god_chide)

i love you. i love you the way the sun loves the

moon; chasing her like a spellbound lover across the

sky year in, year out without a choice or even

the knowledge of how to love anyone else, like how

Apollo loved Hyacinthus: in discuses and blood-red

flowers, my love foe you burns like a wild flame in

love with freedom and air and dry grass, holds on

to you like how a spider's web holds fast to a fly's wings.

i love you in the sounds of the morning, the serene

singing of birds, the gentle whispering of the breeze, and

in the haunting sounds of the night, the throaty

croaks of frogs, the hypnotic chirping of crickets, even

the soprano screeching of a banshee. i love you in words that do not exist and colours that cannot be seen,

in profound silence like human ears can never know

i love you in moments that can never again be

relived, lost to the permanent amnesia of failing

memories, in gasps for air that seem inadequate, too

little, too precious. and it is for this reason i hate you; because i love you.

About the Author:

Chide is a Nigerian student and poet who loves to read psychological thrillers and take long strolls just after dark. She has work recently published or forthcoming in Worm Moon Archive, Karma Comes Before The Magazine and The Creative Zine.

You can follow her on Twitter @god_chide.