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.

And heal.


Permissions given by ©J

Photo courtesy of Google Images, edited by J

About J:

There are a lot of things in this world and among them there’s me, J. Poetry…

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