Today’s poem is part of my exploration of masks. Like the poems before, it has to do with not being able to believe what you see. Not all who wear masks do so to be duplicitous, sometimes it’s just a matter of trying satisfy one’s goal. Whatever that goal may happen to be. Still, the wearing of masks makes it difficult, sometimes, to know exactly what you’re dealing with until it’s too late and the damage has been done. The thing to remember is that in every difficult situation, there is a lesson to be learned. It’s important to learn the lesson and move on.
He stole my love, took
it in broad daylight, knowing
I’d give in to loving him
without putting up much of a
fight. Loving is supposed to be
easy. I had no way of knowing
he would only love me undercover
and under the covers, always
remaining out of sight but
not out of mind. I craved loving
him and fell into it easily.
He only wanted to peddle his
wares a wholesale love affair,
some faux love that wouldn’t
look real to one trained in
recognizing love that’s unreal.
He did all his dealing – love is
kind of like a drug, isn’t it – like
any other thief. Quick in, quick out
smash and grab, then stay out
of sight. He chose to hoard all of
my love and kept his locked away
behind arm length excuses no warm
smile could penetrate. He was like
a squirrel storing love for Spring.
Squirrels never know they might be
dead by Spring. And by Spring,
my love for him would be dead too.
Killed by a thief who evolved
into a murderer.
Peace & Love,