I just realized

love does not exist.

It is an illusion, 

a dark shadow of a foggy mist.

What we feel

we think is real

is just a dream,

a scar we wait for our hearts to heal.

Fluids we pass

between succulent reds,

making love,

all a pretense to get in our lover’s beds.

For thousands of years

we lived and lied,

making up fairytales

for lovers of lovers who selfishly died.

What do we see

when we think it is the one?

We only see our lives,

passing by the chance of having fun.

It is only to get

those two drops that must

mingle and play

in a moment of joy of earthly lust.

It was never to live

happily ever after.

It is always for this day.

Foolishly our lust we had to master.

I just realized

I need to live.

A revelation

that my love I don’t need to give.


    What do you think?

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