There Is More To Life Than Love

Starved and famished, I looked up to him morsels of consolation he offered me… to the inconsolable me? like breadcrumbs to a beggar… The pain goes away comes back again, like the everyday sun shining and setting… holding my tears I try to smile as much as I can… to make ‘everyone’ happy… words freezing out can’t write as before inexpressive to him, inadequately so… Sometimes, I do write making him feel ‘good’ lest he feels he’s hurt me… his silence did it all… he never knew I would be hurt that bad… he couldn’t care less, he didn’t love me; I did… He was used to the girls who never said a word and accepted him, for he ‘listened’ to them, so he says… yet never responded, like he did to me… asking me to accept him, the way he was It was difficult… Plausible: I thought and so I tried, for the sake of love… trying to be like his ‘other girls’… Failed miserably ended up hurt, my heart so bruised, it never stops bleeding… a gaping abyss wrenching me out… seeking ‘closed doors’ I vent my anguish… ceaseless tears that just wouldn’t stop the gash so deep… will it ever fill up? There is more to life than love Get over it and Get over him I helplessly wonder: But How…? The questioning continues… So does the suffering… I seek respite, yet the pain clings back… The days, the months, the years of incessant longing and deathly silence have taken their toll… a past with no future? Forgiving is easy… Forgetting? Never, ever…