simple

energy...wasted
love lies bleeding while the argument rages on
love...
well, maybe not love
we call it love
but what is it really?
maybe (in)tolerance is the better word

we spend half our lives trying to find it
and the other half trying to destroy it
invalidate it, suspicious of pleasure
always waiting for the other shoe to drop
we subject ourselves to unspeakable pain
to unbelievable anguish and self-doubt
sleepless nights and cloudy days alone...
for love?

love isn't blind...
oh no (sorry, really)

love sees things that aren't there
a reason to find fault where there is none
love is too often conditional acceptance
of the untenable broken relationship
we are petrified to let go of...
what if...we're alone

real love is as light and delicate as meringue

(so sweet!)

it should know no limits
accept no boundaries
never judge or condemn

so simple
so painless
so necessary
so, so beautiful


I'd rather be alone than wish I were