If love tastes like violence, then we are at war

Darling, we’re now speeding at 666 kilometre per hour because devil may care who we are and what we are chasing after. The cheap street light reflected on your razor sharp cheek is shining like a glittery ember. “Where are we heading?” You ask while increasing the pressure of the gas as if you were stomping on this gasoline-fucked city.

“I’m not going anywhere in life and I don’t have to go home now.” I mumble. I love the fact that your eyes turn into a couple of red full moons within a minute. I look back at you and set the fire in our silence. If love tastes like violence, then this one must be a war.
My friends told me that you are no different than any other suburban joylessness with head higher than the clouds. Your friends told me that we would be nothing but lost souls in the wilderness of this megapolis; chameleon hearts and dangerous trust in the words of strangers. But now we are in the middle of the open road. Packed with rolls of cigarette and outdated films in our leather bag. Nostalgic – but if this is how we are supposed to be in love, then so be it. Let us drown in every single particle of toxic waste and filthy carbon emissions.
Silence. Top 40 upbeat songs from the record label I used to work in are playing in the radio; their five minute to fame lyrics are our only friend in this endless road trip to nowhere. Your gaze is starting to look empty. It’s two in the morning; we all know that this is not the waking hour dedicated to lovers with arms intertwined together. This one is a special gift from the so called creator to self-loathing people like us and million other beings with issues more than any fashion magazines combined. We’re starting to see stars in our lips, and the nearest motel is still six kilometres away. It is not the most luxurious guest house, but we believe in the glamour of public bathroom and flat white sheets.

At night we fall asleep to our invisible vision of dancing nightingales in front of the door. Knocking our heads to realise that we are safe in our eternal winter.

We breathe each other’s breath and numb each other’s pain until there is nothing left to taste. We explode in the desert of emptiness and swear to the gods inside our soul that this war must go on.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s