poetry

The Day Love left the Building

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It cried inside itself,
some say it slept,
but I was for certain,
the ways it’d been pierced,
so often,
it bled too death.
Drowning in its half of sorrow,
by missing puzzle pieces,
the vandalizing of it’s cathedral,
with constant teasing,
toying of its emotions,
as it watched displeased,
of the unreasonable.
For it was non refundable in returns,
and to vicious repeats,
for what it gave,
so openly,
and every drop it had,
was measured,
so deeply.
It’s hope whizzled away,
as it moped,
still dreaming of a romantic capture,
by a fated chance meeting,
before it’s escape,
of more disasters, it sought,
peace alone off in
a pasture.
Yet before drawing it’s present conclusion,
As others became more,
of its confusion,
The heart weighed all pros and cons that lead,
in loving Love’s intrusion.
Its already mended repetitively, jumped hurdles, been lost and blind, paying the cost,
full of energy, euphoria, through first impressions and trust,
rushing to show off blushes, too lover’s glows, being swept away,
off it’s feet, into the unknown.
Often waiting without concentration for a matched feeling without hesitation’s dance,
Locked inside itself, trapped within its temple,
alone,
as takers fought it’s chance.
Leaping in and out, awaiting a fit,
a perfect match, too stabilize​ it’s gift.
Until it no longer remembered what’s pleasing, it’s reasoning,
it’s long term way,
it’s first love, first kiss, or being
thrown into the “I do” stage,
it became like memorizing and reading the same book over,
without ever, turning a single page.
The heart’s thoughts were “surely, this should last forever, for love’s not clever, it’ll hold, bind it’s substances​, all together,
growing more each day,
make a reality of the games, often played.
But no, it just becomes practiced speaking,
a make believe,
of habitual kisses,
and silent treatments.
Lopsided became love, that renders
only one weaker, as the other signs you up,
To a plan of ego strokes, as vulnerability, and a greeter.
Until it’s more persuasion, negotiating, talking and shouts,
And that my love,
is when love left the building,
simply walking out.

By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017

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7 thoughts on “The Day Love left the Building

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