Departing from my usual style of writing, which is to basically make everything a spectacle, this was written when I was in a somewhat forlorn place, maybe a year ago. 

Sometimes, you wonder if all poetry and love songs aren’t just grossly exaggerating the majesty of Love. 
But now you are barely at the base of its mountain and, looking up at its crest, you know that all of it must be true. 

Sometimes, I wish you would know, or feel the weight of every one of the 500 tears I cried last night, before you so effortlessly change my mindset to suit your own, the very next day. 
Like I didn’t break the night before, worse than cheap china. Like I didn’t clutch myself to keep from falling apart like a badly sewn pinafore. Like I didn’t swear to myself, and all the gods, “Never Again.” 

Sometimes, you think that you’re strong, but you take a little chance and all your painstakingly erected scaffolding  comes undone. 
Sometimes, you look at yourself in consternation, wondering at its dreadful chokehold that can willfully reduce you to a fibre that pines and wilts ….when all they can offer you is a shallow bowl of complacency. 

Sometimes you think it’s not even their fault. It’s you that needs to steel her resolve, that needs to be unbreakable. 
Sometimes you wonder how you never gave love a foothold. But now that you finally want to, you’re not permitted to let it breathe.

But if it doesn’t breathe, it will get no oxygen. It will asphyxiate. It will die. 
This horribly ironic end that is so ‘ merciful’ 
However, takes its time coming. 
That is all we can hope for. 
A swift passage. 

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