Because the magic wand never touches

 
There's something wonderful about one-sided love. Do you know what it is?
You can't really sulk with anyone in the flesh.


The sulking has to be done with that person's portrait
painted on the canvas of your inner mind,
the one you long to hold close, to press tight until you merge—
but your arms only wrap around themselves, or around something else.


In joy or sorrow, this and that might do for a while,
but when grief crosses the threshold of the bearable,
turns savage and picks a fight, then
the heart refuses...refuses any embrace, your own or another's.


Then I keep thinking, what will I do?
I truly don't understand what one does then!


Will you come just once and hold me?
Nothing pleases me anymore...
Anguish upon anguish is splitting my chest,
some kind of delusion is building its kingdom inside me,
pain is cracking my skull,
even my mother's tenderness feels unbearable...


At such times, I need shelter in your chest,
tell me, where else can I go?
I have nowhere left to go...


Now I understand why people become suicidal.
If I remain as I am now,
thoughts of ending myself are bound to come!


Something strange happened today...
You asked me
how I was, whether I was eating properly, whether I was well...


If you could see the answer to these questions from beginning to end,
you'd see that how I am, the way I'm living—all of it
exists only around you.


Thinking of you, scolding you, cherishing you...
Suddenly, crying endlessly...sometimes calling your name,
calling my Creator...why won't you come...why won't you come...
Do you know you're a strange magic wand?