Tag Archives: Observations

Too Often It Was Pain

I was told love was pure.
Love was kisses on the cheek,
hugs from behind when you didn’t expect them.
Love was not locking the door,
just if love wanted to see you.
Love was caring,
when no one else was.
Love was all there was sometimes.
Love was forgetting your friends,
but making sure your love was smiling.
Love was dreams sometimes,
waking up to the truth;
it didn’t exist anymore.
Love was not going to bed,
because you’re sickly in love with seeing their face every night.
Love was pure pain sometimes.

Your Lies

Your lies are
ugly, worn-out,
pieces of paper
I use to sort out
my clustered head.
Would you
tell me one more?

Would it make a difference?

What if we didn’t love the wrong people during the holidays?

What if we let people in, instead of shutting them out?

What if we realized how messed up the world is? Even at this very moment?

Would our fridge still be full of food we are not going to finish?

Would you tell me that it didn’t matter?

Would you tell me that everything is going to be alright?

Would you believe it?

What if you asked a stranger “how are you?”?
What if they told you they weren’t alright?
What if you asked a friend?
What if they told you they are alright, but you know better?
What if you asked me?
What if, even with a cross around my neck, I told you I’m not?