crap poem for a crap s.o.u.e.
It all seemed so clear tonight--
with that song running out of notes,
that song that I always said would have to be
the only explanation I could give
for falling out of love.
With those last few plucks of the guitar,
the rising and falling synths and vocals,
I ended love.
I imagined this end for the first time in my head,
the way we first imagine death
or true happiness
or loss.
This artistic creation is the purgatory between
wanting you around
and wanting you gone.
But in the least,
it expresses how painful it is to say
that I don't love either of you anymore
yet still reserving the fact
that I always will remember what it was like.
with that song running out of notes,
that song that I always said would have to be
the only explanation I could give
for falling out of love.
With those last few plucks of the guitar,
the rising and falling synths and vocals,
I ended love.
I imagined this end for the first time in my head,
the way we first imagine death
or true happiness
or loss.
This artistic creation is the purgatory between
wanting you around
and wanting you gone.
But in the least,
it expresses how painful it is to say
that I don't love either of you anymore
yet still reserving the fact
that I always will remember what it was like.