I miss you in moments and movies and music that we once used to share
I miss you at events I'd have to beg to have you there
I miss the many magic moments that from life’s stress gave lenience
Even though now I see everything required your convenience

We’d introduced and then declared ourselves: serial monogamists
But after the breakup I saw this statement strangely ominous
This seeming dedication, to love, until the right was found
Would reveal itself as—for you—passion easily re-bound

It’s so rare to find a partner, your best friend, a man in one
No one else on earth with whom I’d ever hoped to have such fun
And you would write and say the things to me that made me melt
Only to realize sometime later they were things said--not felt

How ironic, silly, useless, and ungrateful of me, now
To scorn your absence when from tragedy it disavowed
I should be thanking you for cutting short the growing hurt
That surely I’d endure for years as your affection grew more curt

Thank you, I guess, for being self-servicing enough to leave me,
But for not being so much so to both in faith and life bereave me
For I did not lose you--the man I’ve loved and lost’s a ghost
A man you haven’t been long before departing from this coast

You can’t help someone through the hurt they don’t admit exists
You can’t help someone soothe a fight they claim you fought with fists
You can’t convince an independent that love takes work to flow
You can’t love someone out of habits they don’t think they must outgrow

*Every day I wake up feeling slightly less impacted by a truck.
I’m confident that one day I’ll find for whom my love is luck.

I’m searching for an answer.
Surrounded by monogamists I crawl and weep,
Surrounded by dogmatists I hunger.
I’m searching for a key to unlock the doors of profanity.
I don’t want to hear something about the seasons,
Or anything about ethics.
No more flowers,
Away with the aesthetic of yore.
Give me the affairs, the filth, secret lives.
Give me the runaways, the elderly, the jokesters.
Give me the casanovas and cougars.
I search this rotten boulevard and t
All night, all night, even during the day..
I’m on the search..
I’m looking for a key to unlock the doors of profanity.

Love is a concept ineffable,
Some believe it’s like a roaring flame,
Others believe it’s more of a warm hug,
There are naysayers who believe it’s a capitalist lie,
Others devout to it.
Some people are serial monogamists,
And at the other end,
Those who fear being with only one person for life,
Some are lucky enough to go to sleep,
With Love being the last thing they see and feel,
And others are in Love across continents,
Love isn’t always physical intimacy of course,
Tungsten is strong but is it strong than a mother's Love?
You can Love your friends,
And Bacon Burgers,
So what is Love?
The short answer is;
I have no idea,
But as soon as you know....

...YOU KNOW