Sunday, November 13, 2016

What (or Where) is love?

I needed you and I wouldn't let myself believe it.  I felt you inside me poking around and filling the holes I'd created myself.  I began to open up to you.  I felt the darkness disappear.  I didn't know you were picking at my scars to heal me where we were until I told you enough to push you away.  I pushed you away just in time to not know enough about what I was leaving behind.


It's been long enough.  Hasn't it?

You barely even know me.  I fall fast but I'd so much rather do so than stay buried beneath these dead leaves.  The shards of broken hearts create small slivers but sometimes the smallest wounds hurt the most.  Can I tell you anything?  Can we even just communicate?  Is infatuation okay here?  I'd like to escape this lonely togetherness.  What are you looking for?

And everyone else: you don't know me anymore.  I have opinions.  I have ears in high places.  My heart lays low among the brush and rubs sticks together that only create forest fires burning homes and habitats in their way.  I'm a disappearing mosaic of atoms descended from Adam.  Do you read poems like an almanac?  Do you force-feed your seed the secondhand stories you've heard?  Do you verify your sources before you pass along the chismes?

Why does this always happen to me?  Here?

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