I wonder how we could talk about love
like it was the worst thing that ever happened
or what made up of everything that once were before it ended, was never worth it
I wonder how we carry around love
like it’s the worst thing we ever had
we kill it, and spit on its grave
look for another, and then do the same
I wonder why we cross the street to avoid
the people we once loved
I wonder why we could never look them in the eye
and talk about what we once had
talk about the good times
laugh about how fast time flies,
and then apologize for the pain?
How could closure means staying miles
apart from each other?
Are we afraid that when we call out their
name, look at them, we would end up loving them again?
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