What Lonely Lives We Lead.
I’m tired of comparing love to…
well, anything, really.
It all seems so trite and played out.
It’s already been compared to everything.
Screw doves and halting heartbeats,
our love is none of that.
Our love is lonely, austere,
painful and soul-crushing.
It’s nothing but weeks and weeks
of no communication,
waiting up by the phone
and hoping you would call.
You never did.
Or leaving almost frantic messages,
practically begging you to go out.
I wish I weren’t the desperate one,
you never seem to care.
What lonely lives we lead.
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