POEM 13: No, I Don't

"No, I don't."

I remember saying those words like a kid

When you asked me if I loved you

We were sitting on sunlit wooden benches by the beach

They have witnessed similar interrogations

Which have received similar rejections

Or signified a beginning, a fresh blooming of roses

Or tear a long-lasting connection as quick as a ribbon-cutting day.

"No, I don't."

I answered, without hesitation

But my heart knew since sunrise that

I loved you.

But was it still love when I looked away

Once our eyes met under the sparks of moonlight?

Was it still love when I flinched in horror

Once our bodies touched among the concert crowd?

Was it still love when I left you on the dance floor

Once our hearts pranced to the same rhythm?

Is it still love if I couldn't tell you?

But, no, my heart knew since sunrise that

I loved you.

It was just beating fast like glass windows in a hurricane.

It was afraid. I was afraid

to watch horror movies with somebody, again

to embark on a magical journey with somebody, again

to bawl on the floor with somebody, again

to be held tight atop the 98th floor

to have someone knocking on my wooden door

to have someone

to love someone

again,

while I shiver in fear, deliberating with a thousand selves

whether to deify my worries or defy my gravity.

"No, I don't,"

To me, was never an honest answer

But a thorn in my roses, a rejection to regret.

No, I don't.

I love you, but I don't think that I can hold your hand now

Or kiss you under the autumn sunset

Or scream with you among a concert crowd

Or have an angel like you as my final slow dance

Or just have you when I can't find me.

And so I said...

"No, I don't," I said those words

but you just smiled back.

Then pierced my soul straight through the eye,

and my tears gave the real answer away.

"No, I don't.

Not that I don't love you

But I can't fire off missiles at you

Just because I myself can't contain my demons.

So ask me out again, will you?

Meet me on the same bench.

I can't tell you when,

But the next time, I promise I'd say I love you back

And just love you for the hell of me."

Written 29th March, 2021.

Poem copyright © 2021 by Peter Ryuken B. Hermosura, “No, I Don't”

Author's Annotations

No, I Don't is arguably my most uninspired poem in the Peter's Poems and Other Peregrinations website, but it houses a remarkable level of tension and anxiety arising from a blossoming relationship offset by personal woes. The narrator, talking to his future special someone, quickly denies that he loves her, but in the end, when he tells his reasons for not saying I love you back, she just smiles back and still remains hopeful for a love that may or may not be, at all.