“I don't believe in love,” she said,
Trying to convince one of us
That it was true. I knew
That she knew its reality
All too well, through the pain
It causes when it isn't yours.

It became like a silly
Childhood game where
You ignore someone until
They're shouting and crying,
Pleading to be heard.

Another friend abused;
Another broken friendship
Left unrepaired.

*
The birds made her smile
With their song, but only for
The way they patched up
Her cracked memories;
The crazed old teapot,
Stalwart of Sunday afternoons
With grandma, seen as
The treasured wedding gift
It may once have been.

She always smiled with
A hint of sadness, giving away
The truth she couldn't hide
In memories that never were.

*
Summer and winter were
Her friends, while spring and autumn
Were cruel adversaries
That made her cry.

“What we call love is always
Either growing or dying,
So the stable seasons
Help me to forget.”
The curtains she hid behind
Were made of her words
That could only convince
One of us. She never wanted
The light to get in.

03/05/2007

Posted on 04/30/2007
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince