case file
I tried to write about love, but
everything I want to express has already been written.
(a shelf weighed down by vinyl records, decades of lyricisms for love and heartbreak.)
I forced myself to write about love, but
I can't remember what I saw in you the first time -- I don't even know if I want you anymore.
(a case file with faded photographs, all proof too dated and aged for the detective.)
I started to write about love, but
it strained my thoughts and muddled my feelings too much to try.
(a never-ending book, an unsolvable puzzle, pages and pieces scattered over the floor.)
I wanted to write about love -- about you -- but
I wanted to write about love -- about you -- but
(a smudged page, gray marks from words I tried to take back.)
at least I know I tried.
at least I know I tried.
****
originally written in February 2021, revised in April 2021. Image from unsplash.

Comments
Post a Comment