Hurried my way throughout the week
Watched each second slowly creep
Waited for the drive home to end
Magnetized by my comfortable bed
Lying there, I started to think
My fears and hopes began to sink
Within and out I felt the dread
As I clutched the pillow upon my bed
Am I in love with my sadness as The Pumpkins say?
The movement of my sheets, a roll in the hay?
I’m not really sure, but I know this much
Any love affair eventually rusts
Becomes bitter and cold with no more flame
And no more of my life to drain
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Love rusts. Does anything endure? I wonder…
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I think some love absolutely endures, it’s just so much fucking work. For me, the kind that will never be work is the love for my child. Partners, spouses, even some family? That’s s different story.
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Wonderful post. Which brings me to the conclusion, love is not so easy to do from day to day
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Absolutely
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