Dear Truthful Love . . .

Somber eyes and feeble sighs,

Knowing too well, of the loneliness

That resides.

“Undoubtedly, we’ll die alone.”

All carry blindfolds in narrow paths,

To the darkness unknown.

The pain of wanting to shout someone’s name

Hoping for the response, that never came.

Miracles await, or so they claim.

Deceiving targets and defective darts

The burdens that we carry in each other’s hearts,

“It’s all a game”, me, a heedless being, pressing restart.

Surely, the scars of yesterday, black and blue,

Will disappear and sorrow will depart.

She and I together will wave goodbye,

As our former selves die,

We’ll cry together, unafraid whether we’re watched or not.

Love is when thoughts are heard, never bashed for being absurd.

Love corresponds, it’s more than passion; a trust built over and over,

Consistently mended, where both desire to make ends meet,

Far from loneliness and death, when life can feel complete.

“You ask me why; it’s knowing how to listen, I love our words,

Because I love you, I’ll be here for you, reaching for you,

Calling you.

Because I love you, only this remains true.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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