𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬: “We loved (Only I do)” by Edralyne D. Dela Cruz

 

Photo by: Angelina Jelein Narvaez

Published by: Ayesa Nicole Aman

Date Published: May 13, 2024

Time Published: 1:40 PM

Category: Prose

Subject: Forbidden love

Your chamber, which used to be ecstatic, quirky, and devoted, was hung dead with an air of quietness. The pinot noir that I made was too young to be drunk; yet, I was forsaken to do so by the angels to sit at the fore of the balustrade, as they knew that I would call you.

For once, the devils triumphed over the angels and whispered at me to stare at your eye and say what I felt, but the trumpets of the angels were so loud that I was forced to deter myself from looking at you, as I knew for centuries that we were not meant for each other.

The light from the ceiling of your room blinded me to depth and awakened my eagerness to be unwary of what is righteous. Yet suddenly, a 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦 𝘭’𝘰𝘦𝘪𝘭 appeared and the angels looked down on me—they were mad to death.

But I love you 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦, I wanted to offer you a ring but all I had was the nine rings of hell. It’s a sin to love you.

I could have pleased and prayed to God to teach me how to play the trumpet, sing a melancholy tune, and not hold a trident while taking care of my monstrous horn. I could have asked Him to make my skin as pale as yours and not as red as the ruptured blood. I could have begged God to make me an angel and not a devil.