I Don't Want Love

Roaring fills my ears. Silence consumes my thoughts. This is day two living in a cloud and I’m worse for the weather.

There’s a dragon running in my veins, but he’s sleeping. I hear a voice ring out.

“I don’t want love.”

I’m captured in the magic of the moment. Life slows to a halt and there isn’t anything that could break me free.

“I don’t want love.”

It’s hard to express the solidity the words take. A tree springs up overnight. My life could never be the same.

The restless obsession of my existence has always been love. It’s my greatest motivator. The romantic, the platonic; to me it’s the ultimate in unachievable goals.

“I don’t want love.”

I struggle for moment. Unsure of the path.

“I don’t want love.”

The emotion defies logic. It defies reason. It can’t be explained, only embraced. There are years I’ve spent at the throes of fate. Years in the pit of delusion. These are the symptoms of wanting. These represent the bane I could never summarize. The presence I could never acknowledge.

In stillness, the planet turns. My cloud city fades into the dark, then into the light. The dragon stirs, and for a minute it’s all not true.

“I don’t want love.”

All I can do is relax and smile in reply.