the foolish truth
about love
that nobody ever tells you
is that it weakens you.
love does not, in fact,
make you any stronger
to endure
whatever life throws at you
love clouds your judgment,
blinds your reason.
love alludes
to some idyllic fantasy,
and once
it removes you
from reality,
encases you
in the warm goodness
of false serenity
and while
you inhale this laughing
gas by the gallon
somewhere,
far off in the midst
of what used to be
your rational, thinking mind
there is a whisper of yourself
that says -
this will end.
this has no permanence.
this will cease to exist.
but you don't care
you have it now,
you'll take what you can get
this time
of your attachment
to the other half of you,
who matches perfectly
like fingers of one hand
held up to a mirror,
this thing you have
will most certainly endure...
but it wont.
it never does
and when it's over
there comes the real crush.
the broken pieces,
the shattered dream
dirty, soiled
slivers of glitter
covered in dust
inside of
a black and empty room where
the only light shines
through your memories
how helpless
and pitiful to be
that forlorn creature,
clinging to a past
that never was,
all in the name
of some imaginary game
called love.
copyright 2011
