Love is so overused
isn’t it?
the over expressive teens
eating each others faces
in dim high school hallways
(though they’ll have an appetite for someone else next week),
the velvet chocolate
which gives so much
temporary
enjoyment that the feeder
professes her adoration
to it’s milky swirls,
the flimsy hallmark
cards which are bought to accompany
over- priced roses on
february 14th cause
the commercials are persuasive.
and yet,
that man over there,
on the park bench,
he sits empty and alone.
his finger tracing the spot beside him
that no one cares to fill.
and yet,
that girl,
so young,
she puts the gun in her mouth.
she thinks of the looks
and the words
and also the lack of words.
walls are built high,
plenty of artillery holes;
no door.
Love is so rare
isn’t it?