If you ever do show up, I hope you won’t have felt shown up,
I’m an intense chap and that has left some inclined to up
and leave me be; this deep, pithy stem
from which glowing warmth flows in their unequally invested direction
But, but you’re different, aren’t you?
I know you see me for more than my absurdly powerful, vulnerable affection,
You feel me for all the times I can respond to your calls without the parting of your lips in my name’s mention,
You see me for all the times our eyes meet when you cry and I present you with a semblance of redemption,
You taste me for all the times I recall your favourite soda, that zesty brand of Fanta — Passion.
And I’m sure you smell me for all the times I help you redecorate the house and work up some afrodisiac jasho
You’re different, aren’t you?
We aren’t just laughing mirthlessly for oxymoronic value?
Because if we are, I’d like to confess that I meant that hearty laugh that made my jaw crack,
I couldn’t fake that time when I said I fell into your trap, it was so bad I ripped a hole in my sole and that hoodie you got me from GAP,
That I was beyond help and wanted to be yours forever, even though I was holding back, remains a fact.
I hoped in you, but I guess this life is sometimes up, you know, fucked.”
You led yourself to believe that they’re different, but is anyone really?
We all have a sob and I-was-robbed story, don’t we?
You place so much value on a person’s shoulders because you want them to be the one,
Not like in the mythos, but because they represent the change you believe you need to see,
Even if you wait forever in the cold pits of your soul,
they may never see you quiver or realise you’re alone.
But visions involving pedestals so high were always built to fall like the pride dreamily invested in those on which they stood,
And as rude as I may seem, you are owed nothing for all the times up, you were stood — stooge,
The inevitability of your predicament of a state was all there, in the pudding,
You tried to have and eat it too and reassuring as I wish I could be to you, what with walls crashing and bells tolling
I can’t save you from yourself if you won’t see the urgency of stopping the destruction to self you are doling.
Into the depths of this belief in the existence of equal malevolence in women as the benevolence in men you must journey,
For no amount of time or money can help you achieve the necessary equanimity,
Only a cultivated change in your take on this humanity and a different perspective on romance and its family, question them for their vanity!
You need to extricate yourself from the clutches of your self-deprecating depravity,
Because “It’s not you, it’s me and I’m you“; because this world plays us one tune and we all dance to it eternally.
Yours in perpetuity,
Evans Mbora Campbell
Your Different Similarity