true(ly) love(less)

so they say
true love
never
dies.

it never fades out
to blackness
while you
sit on the edge of the sofa
watching the horror
and the solitude
close in,
break out
around the edges
of your crossing eyes.
eyes that land on a single
featureless feature.
trivial to the moment.
basking in your attention.
or your lack of focus.

oh, but no worries,
oh but allright.

true love doesn't
do that to you.
it doesn't desert you
keep you hanging,
or pacing,
or crying,
or empty,
in the middle of the night
slipping back and forth
in
darkness and silence
and worry and anger.
the pressure meter switched to full blast
breaking the knob
leaving you stuck.

no.

its

perfection.
true love?
glorious.

what makes it true?
honesty, purity, clarity
where, when, how.
in love.
inside of love.
honesty? purity? clarity?

the knowledge
that
this is not that
leaves me turning corners
of mazes with no peepholes
or hints
or fountains of wisdom.
blunted, blind, fumbling.
what am i here, then?
who are you
and all of those lovers?

truly loveless?

we keep crumbling
and wilting
and falling
and degrading
back into the dirt.
back into the insecurity.
back into the nonsense.
back into the distraction.
back into the noiselessness.

experiences, moments,
infatuations, passions.
human tensions
human love.

good enough to be truth?
good enough to be pure?
is good enough even good enough?

so what are we?
all of the lovers
that are aware,
knowing that
we aren't true,
we aren't everything
we aren't perfect
or whole
or enough

but we love just the same.