Loose, Noose


I argue
the fickle
meaning of
the word ‘love’.
Ask me,
and I will tell you
what it means.
Apathetic routine.
Unimportant importance.
Lip service.
Relentless fashioning
of another’s
whole soul
to suit the ‘better’ half.
Numb hum drum
yesterday, today,
and tomorrow.
Promises motivated
by fear.
Forced liberation
on another’s clock.
Tick tock.
You fit my mold yet?
That can’t be love.
Can it?

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