Let the next love in.
I look at certain things and know I am supposed to feel something.
I’ll sit there and stare, trying desperately to reach something in me,
let it stick somewhere.
But it just passes through.
-
Earlier in the year, a beautiful girl let me kiss her.
This doesn’t happen often in my life, certainly recently.
It was odd though, I didn’t feel much of anything,
like placing my lips upon brick,
there was nothing there.
Praise this girl for allowing me!
But nothing.
-
Surely I am not broken, I am not unhappy.
I promise you, I sleep soundly every night.
When I am awake, I am likely smiling.
But it seems old flames are among the only warmth I feel,
so the future seems bright,
but cold.
open sky with snow on the ground.
-
I am led to believe that I haven’t loved for so long I have forgotten how.
Even now my quiet, whispering self murmurs hateful things,
things I don’t believe, can’t believe,
because there is no logic in hate.
But still I wonder if I will ever let it come.
-
It is my hope to feel everything I can, and in doing so let the next love in.
