“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source.
It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds;
it dies of weariness,
Betrayal when it came
it sucked the air from the room
turned it black
took my breath
My hands shook as I showed you the proof of its reveal
months may have past but not the unveiling
nor the deeds
there they sit
stacked over there
one upon the other
on the shelf labeled lies
I'll pack them up as I dust them off
some of them are old and earmarked
others are brand new
Truth should set me free
I'll be on solid footing soon
with just a shaken ego that needed shaking anyway
no more room for denial
truth took that all away
the bookshelf labeled Your LIes will be cleared..
I'll put them in brown bags and boxes
tie them up in ribbon and send them back to you
or maybe take them to the bookstore, the one just down the road
they take used up words
I'll light candles and sage the room
and I'll watch as your power drifts away..