True Love

True love is being frightened,

Whimpering and cowering fetal,
Realizing tears require no sounds any more,
No need for crows feet, they just come.

It is loss, it's like someone stepped out of you, or you pushed them,
daintily or roughly, it all leaves the same gaping.

It is knowing that number 1 has gone
and that no mathematics can prevail.

Feelings all go away but three. Torture. Agony,
still remain virile and vicious,
but True Love is the last man standing. It will never try and leave. It needs torture, it needs agony, it needs to find its truth. 

It needs to be real.
It needs to be endured.

It needs to be real.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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October 9, 2017 at 7:57 AM
This makes me smile, and I hope the one for whom you wrote it, smiled too :)
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October 9, 2017 at 7:53 AM
Jon, this is a poem, a person, in agony. Love can do that to someone. Well written poem
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