Janice Mans' Dear Ex-Lover

I swear, my heart broke a little when her voice started breaking in the middle of the poem. From her loud desperate cries and wails, I could feel that Mans was as shattered, crushed and crumbled as she said she was, if not more so. The pain, the agony in her voice is so immense that now I am terribly afraid of being heart broken, even more so than before. 

I love the imageries she used in the poem, it's all so poetic. 'Lay my heart on his chest like red roses on Mahogany caskets', 'we loved, like there were expiration dates tattooed on our inner thighs', 'your heartbeat sounded like guns shells tripping over battered cement', 'never regret loving in permanent ink', 'with hearts filled with thousand of fireflies', 'we hurt like c-section birthing dead babies'... All of these lines, filled with death, beauty, hopelessness, intimacy, violence, pain and light; it is something to produce words and lines as such. And it takes some experience, some hurt and some broken heart and some courage, to be able to write and read like Mans does.

Dear Ex Lover,I hope my daughter never knows what a goodbye kiss feels like…

I hope she never knows what “I’ll see you later.” really means.

I hope she never memorizes the dial-tone of a last conversation,

because a broken heart feels like poisoned butterflies taking their last flutters in the pit of your stomach

This single stanza caught my eyes and ears when I first heard this poem. This stanza is so relatable, so real. It will be great to never know what a goodbye kiss feels like. And never experience the loss, the losing of a person, of love, that would never come back. Because a broken heart, feels like the poisoned butterflies dying and corroding into your acid stomach. Mans sounded so personal in these lines, and made them sincere prayers for the innocence and happiness of her future daughter, the protection from pain and sorrows.

One of my favorite line in Mans' poem is 'And that we loved women who loved women, who loved people that did not love us.' This line is so strong, so desolate and absolute. That was the end and the truth for Mans.  Well, and then this line obviously does not solely work for female female relationships. It works for everyone and any type of love. And that we loved people who loved people, who loved the persons that did not love us...Because love is a game that makes strangers fall for strangers, and turns strangers into lovers and into strangers.

'Never regret loving in permanent ink.'

This is the line that struck me most. I know as of now, I am paving my own way, either to a deathly fall that would kill my heart, or a nirvana of love and affection. I desperately hope that the latter one would be the truth. No matter how happy I am now, it is hard to be naive and assume that things will be all happily ever after. It is all kind of sad, I understand, but then I promised to believe and so I will.  

I don't think I will regret loving in permanent ink, I am just quite afraid of loving in permanant ink. Anyhow, the needles are already going deeper and deeper now and the ink is already spreading all over.  I sincerely wish I never have to 'stop chasing memories in my dreams', and can dream up worlds and blue skies, diners and fire escapes, beds and rooftops and everything else, and never have to stop. I hope I could cry and pray and laugh with love 'like our smiles were the only ones that mattered in this world' till the day...till th

Dear Ex Lover,

I promise I’ll stop chasing your memory in my dreams.
I’ll stop bringing your

name up over cups of coffee, muffins, and loneliness.
I will marry a man
and I will lay my heart on his chest like red roses on Mahogany caskets
and
I’ll have his daughter and she’ll have eyes reminding me that God still believes
in second chances.

And if she ever decided to love a woman, I will rub bravery down her spine.
I will be reminded of all the times that we loved, like there were expiration dates tattooed on our inner thighs.
If she ever comes home with eyelids like cracking Levis and bruised kneecaps and a heart filled with question marks
I will hold her like my mother never held me.

I will clasp her face in my palms like the new testament on judgement day.
I’ll tell her that love is the passion that allows you to do the right thing,
and that no woman can play coaster to a half empty heart.
And if she ever feels as if she is alone,
as if she is a hand-me-down pulled out of the depths of mummy’s closet.

I’ll remember your name and I’ll mumble it under my breath and if she asks me what I said;
I’ll tell her I know what it’s like to drag a woman out of a cold war
and then being too worn to clean up the battlefield that it has made of you.
I’ll tell her that your heartbeat sounded like gun shells tripping over battered cement.

I’ll tell her that i know what it’s like just to want someone to remember you
and that some women are as foul as expired men in produce isles
and that apologies are like oxygen masks on a hijacked plane.
Forgive yourself before you ever forgive the person sitting next to you.
I’ll tell her to never regret loving in permanent ink,
and that scars only give you stretch marks,
something to gossip about
and that hearts and stop signs are fraternal twins,
lost in open roads and hollow chests.

And if my daughter’s mirror ever looks unfamiliar and she’s too embarrassed and prideful to run into mummy’s arms
I’ll pray, that she has friends with hearts filled with thousands of fire flies,
who are not too cool to pray with her,
who will tell her to stop looking for the light at the end of the tunnel and find God in the darkness.

If my daughter ever walks in my house like shattering glass,
I’ll tell her about you.
I’ll tell her that we hurt like c-sections birthing dead babies,
and that we cried together, and we prayed together, and we laughed
like our smiles were the only ones that mattered in this world.
And that we hurt like women who loved women, who loved people that did not love us.

Dear Ex Lover,I hope my daughter never knows what a goodbye kiss feels like…
I hope she never knows what “I’ll see you later.” really means.
I hope she never memorizes the dial-tone of a last conversation,
because a broken heart feels like poisoned butterflies taking their last flutters in the pit of your stomach

Dear Ex Lover, I hope my daughter never bears her soul at a poetry showcase with her first love sitting in the audience,
knowing that the hands she’ll use to applaud her with, will be the same hands that will never hold her again.

The Heartache of Missing Someone

Missing someone hurts.

When you miss someone, you find yourself lying in your bed past midnight, with a warm drop of tear rolling down the side of your face, and you realize you are crying. Sometimes, you want to cry. You think that tears will wash away all sorrows and wash you closer ashore. It does sometimes. But sometimes, you just wail and wail until your voice breaks and your eyes swell and you notice: nothing has changed. The distance is still present.

When you miss someone, you find yourself lying awake at 4am in the morning, counting the stars between you and love. And you fall in and out of sleep, because your heart tugs at you, reminding you to remember and to miss. For most of the time, love is the first thought in your mind when you awaken. When you open your eyes, you think of the face that you miss so much. You wish that you could feel the warmth of the other body beside you, or smell the familiar scent of love. And you realize every time, after you have come to yourself, that you are alone.

When you miss someone, you find your heart beating and thumping, sometimes louder than ever, trying to signal to the other heart half way across the globe that you are missing love. Or you find your heart beating silently, listening for a distinct beat, synchronized to yours, signaling to you half way across the globe too, telling you the very same. Sometimes your heart hears it, senses it and you become warm and filled up. But sometimes you won't. And that is when it all gets dark.

But missing someone is not all heartache.

Missing someone is hope. Every dawn is a reminder that you are one day closer to seeing love again. Every night is a chance for you and love to meet among the clouds, or make out on the grass, or sit on the fire escape, gazing out at the terrain of big churches and small houses below the golden haze.

Missing someone is building castles in the air. Every time you raise your hand to touch the illuminated glass screen,you close your eyes and feel the stubbles on love's cheeks. When your spirits sank, you hear love humming from across the seas, and you find yourself curled up in love's embrace.

Missing someone is patience. Every wave of dire longing are waves you learn to overcome. You choke and you fall, but you are going to rise back up every time because you know you care and you will never let the warm waters go. You know that one day, you will ride the waves in glory, with love's arms wrapped tightly around you and you will rejoice.

Missing someone is a reminder that you can feel. Every emotions that strike your heartstrings, every joy and sorrow that roll around the tip of your tongue or down your face show that you are capable of staying consistent, of not changing, of holding on and of not letting go.

Missing someone is hard, is painful, but is also beautiful and lovely. Because every time you and love connect, it is the best feeling of all.

Oh boy, I miss you so. I miss you so.