love and cowardice

 

you continued to tell me you love me,

until I started to love you,

suddenly you were afraid,

I know not of what, but

you ran.

Away and far, from

your dreams and mine,

from us.

You ran so far,

I couldn’t see you anymore, maybe

that’s what you wanted.

I still wonder,

why you did what you did,

was it me or was it you, or

just somebody else.

I wonder if this act,

aches your bleeding soul,

I hope it does, for

you’ve rendered me bloody and broken,

shattered.

What compelled you,

to cheat and abandon, above all

to lie.

For men like you,

love women like me,

for the scent of our body.

It’s true, isn’t it?

You needy greedy souls,

adulterate and intoxicate,

rosy words like love, for the lust

lust that runs in your filthy furrows.

Alas! Little did I know,

that love as you call it,

is an excuse,

a false notion of emotion.

An excuse for our bodies entwined,

an open door, to me.

You liked the feeling of love,

not love, the feeling.

And I craved the latter.

Panic, you must,

when young lasses fall for you,

virginal and vulnerable.

Escapism is an art,

for bastards like you,

who pine for smokes and sex,

and run away, from the truth, love.

 

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