I’m starting to think

that half of what I’ve been told

isn’t true.

Did curiosity really kill the cat?

Is a bird in the hand worth two in the bush?

Can a house divided truly not stand?

Tell me, is it better to have loved and lost,

or never to have loved at all?

 

Love and loss are bound together

like pages in a well worn book.

Love is cruel, it works with loss.

It can be sweet, gentle and caring but in a flash

it crushes, breaks and hurts.

I know now the sweet side isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
A slap in the face

when you think everything is fine.

You lose everything.

 

Love is supposed to be an exhilarating rush,

like cannonballing into a lake on a summer day.

Loss is supposed to hollow you out,

like a turkey before you stuff it.

Now the fragile line between two meanings is unclear,

I don’t know if they are separate.

I can not tell.

 

Both cause pain.

Heartache is called heartache for a reason.

Both cause tears to fall.

Death. Divorce. Rejection.

Bumps in the road send you spinning.

 

So tell me,

Is it better to have loved and lost?

Or better to not have loved at all?