Sunday, September 11, 2011

POEMS break my heart

People often ask why I'm single. I'm not.  

My poems are my lovers. In the beginning, as with all relationships, I get to know one. I spend ample time hearing what it has to say, letting it be whatever it wants to be. Sometimes, when I cannot accept it for what it is, I stay up all night, trying to understand it. 

My poems are my lovers, I phone home to tell my mom which ones made me cry, which ones made me laugh, and often to disclaim: This is the one, mom!

But something is always wrong. Sometimes it's too deep, or too shallow. Sometimes I love it too much, but it won't change - it hurts when this happens. And whenever I can no longer take it, I resort to cheating. I get to know another poem, take it out for coffee, take it to my room and lock the doors.

In the end, it always ends. Some badly (torn or thrown into the trash bin). And when it does, I come running to my friends, telling them how it was all good in the beginning. How it was so promising. How I thought that this was it, but that it just didn't work out.

And then, I move on and meet other poems.

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