Love is forgetful.
Love doesn’t remember it that way.
Doesn’t remember how you vomited on the
Floor.
How you broke that, how stupid you looked, how cruel, how shallow. Love doesn’t want
To remember. Love forgets each new day and
Only remembers that best day. That
Sunshine in your eyes.
Love is viscious.
Love knows all the worst criticisms of you;
Your worst moments, worst weaknesses.
Love has the words to cut your heart
Out.
And sometimes it does, then tries, messily, to put it all back.
But love will kill anyone else who dares
Give them voice and speak those forbidden
Secrets.
Love is irrational
Love takes offense out of all proportion.
It measures your moments like red circles
On a calender. It forgets you’re nothing
Special.
It looks at a pig and sees a painting. It
Pants after your vinegar like water
In a desert. It thinks you’re the only one.
Love is naive.
Love never saw how selfish you were, how ugly, how trapped you are by yourself.
Love believes next time could be better,
Believes you’re still that person.
Love was born yesterday. It won’t learn
It’s lesson, won’t grow up. Won’t stop
Burning its hands.
Childish.
Making Nobody Happy 