I'm wondering what's left, what remains when you've truly loved and then lost that love. What happens once that person holding your heart has just gone away, taking that heart with them. I'm pondering what makes one love better than another, what makes the worth of a love. Is it based on the length of time that love has existed? Does it lie in the strenght of the feeling?
And once that love inhabits you and then leaves you, what stays inside. What is it that stays true, when that love became simply a string of numbers and equations, just a series of phrases, going over and over in your head. What happens when all that's left are pictures, poems and choruses? It's like repeating the same thing over and over: it loses it's meaning. You forget the reason why there is a numbness, an emptiness. Yet, that numbness is still there. You forget why and how things happened, but the words, the songs and the pictures are there to remind you.
How does one separate oneself off of a love that never ended properly?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment