"Then Was It Love?" .........A voicing of thoughts:
How is it that the relationship I tendered for 18 months
Withered in a matter of days?
Why is it my fault that you simply gave up,
Unwilling to care any more?
"You don't understand. You are so dense.
You are blind, and see only yourself."
I was blind, it is true.
I did not see you as you were.
I saw a companion, an ally, a confidant-
Someone who cared, a friend that loved.
How amiss was my amorous perception!
"It is no crime to stop loving someone.
I cannot help what I feel."
Then was it love? Or is love to you
Something that lapses so easily!
You mistook love for attraction
And led me on,
Compelling me to tender an anemic rapport
That somehow must grow from mistaken "love."
It withered and died, and no wonder!
Nothing could revive this failing plant.
I have nothing to show for all these months
Except perhaps a bitter root-
A root which has grown in the weeds and choked life.
Why name a plant Love, when it will only die?
Why not call it what it is- allure, boredom, thrill?
Perhaps your feelings cannot be changed,
But must I waste away with this desiccated plant
And drink only the tepid water of insults?
Feign friendship, if your polished image demands,
But there is one person you cannot dupe.
I still have left the bitter root to speak
Of what no one will ever see.