Loving me will be synonymous to disaster preparedness.
The soaked tissues are left on your bed like clouds keeping rain
And when the storm hits, my hands will be a bulletin board
With push pins for teeth, placing a stop sign on my lips
When you are about to kiss me for aching.
Before going to bed, I will send you storm signals by the number of times
I do not apologize for my rock-size bitterness and landslide words.
The lump inside my throat will not be an easy hurricane to flush down empty
After we make love. I will tell you about the day I fell for a man
Who had me like first-aid, convinced that I am not loving you the way he did.
For that, I will let you carry me like an after-wedding present,”
For the days I am shutting myself like metal doors and a fist.
I will let you kiss me when my eyes are closed and when you ask why
It’s because you are the only person who could understand
All of my eruptions and cracks still choosing to keep them like raindrops.