Ma Partie Privée

The truth deserves to be known - or at least told. And I want to scream out my mute emotion. Yawp it at the top of the world so everybody could hear. Vent it, howl it, wail it, screech it out.

You. you. you. I love you. yes, you.


But not even a whisper of it shall be known.



Still the gag suffocates me so and now I desire freedom. I need to be some place else. I need to escape my routine. I need to flee. be a coward and go. be the villain and walk out of game.



I yearn for the day when love as I know it will disappear. Stop the present perfect progressive and turn it into a past tense.


I thirst for a place where you don't exist, no single thread for the mischievous Greek god of love to bind my heart to you. Cut all ties, sever them, burn them whole.


Yes, yes, I love you, and that's the sole reason I hate you. Thus, go you will from my life for I will start a new.


I am killing you, so let this love accompany you on your death bed. After this, you will be buried in my backyard, be left forgotten, and then I don't have to mute my emotion or repress my scream.


Yes, you are much prettier dead and forgotten.