The words spewed from your tongue
The ones you swore on a hot June afternoon
To never even think in my direction
But you said them.
And now all that’s ringing in my ears
Is the negative half of the majority
Believing love no more than the tooth fairy
But we can’t let them be right.
We can’t be their sympathy
That knowing sad shake of the head
That pity that reeks of told you so
They have to be wrong.
We have to choke our demons blue in the face
Slather balm over the burn until our words become aloe
Nursing fragile love wrapped in new pink skin
We have to reach across the void.
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There are a lot of things in this world and among them there’s me, J. Poetry…
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