If love is for fools
And hate is for monsters
Where does that leave me?

Somewhere in between
Lost in this shuffle
Wandering between forest and sea

Not quite belonging to either
But needing to be with the trees
Someday I’ll grow my roots

Did I scare you?

Do you hate me?

Sorry


I'll



Try




Less





Next




Time.

I slip you the paper in anticipation

Does she like me?

I move in and stay up all night laughing with you

Does she like me?

You return a new piece, covered in doodles

She likes me?

Remember the day we left

You squeezed me till I broke

And dried my tears with your thumb

What happened since then?

Laugh as you did before

So free

Did you open it when I left?

Tear open the paper

Or are you still waiting

Counting the days

Are you anxious

What could be inside

A leaf fell from your branch

It would be wrong to glue it back

But I've got a glass half full

And wouldn't mind helping grow a knew one

I don't know how to be
Anything but broken anymore
Left crushed and lifeless
I built myself back up
Into another fragile shell
Anything could tear me apart
I'm barely living
On the fringes of existence
Never truly taking part
Maybe I can't fall in love
But I can always count on
Falling apart

An idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
Then they’re willing to do anything,
For the person they’re in awe of.

Whether its building a new world,
Or burning the old one down,
They’ll stop at nothing,
To give their love a crown.

Now if that love fades,
And they are left weeping,
They could take one of two paths,
Both will leave an empty heart unsleeping.

Path one is war and rampage,
Destroy everything in their way,
Path two is depression and tears,
They may cause their own doomsday.

Either way an idiot is harmless,
Until that idiot falls in love,
And if you happen to cross that idiot,
Beware for they do not care, they are deprived of---------

I woke up

this morning and saw you
brushing your hair in the mirror

I asked you if it’s Sunday
you said yes

I feel we’ve been here before
and like a revolving door

we have the same conversation
at different times
and in different places

the words and music
so familiar to my ear

as we continue
to turn

and reset the earth like a clock

Whit Howland © 2019