FREEWRITE 120409

Maybe love is a myth.
A tale that was told on
Lonely nights.
Maybe is started with a simple kiss
On the cheek and they tagged that as
Love.
And as generations grew, so did the idea
Of true love existing
Kissing strangers until the
Right one landed on hopeful lips
Someone must have have twisted around
The words, because somewhere in the
Midsts of kisses on cheeks, love was stolen
Somewhere, love was shattered and broken
The letters spilling over torn hearts.
Loved died.
And when they tried to put the pieces back together
They glued it wrong,
Leaving dark holes in their theories,
Gaps in between their thoughts
Love was a myth broken by lies and fantasies
Shoving pretty quotes down aching throats
In hopes of finding a prince charming.
Someone to leak pretty words into desperate palms
Someone to hold the burdens of your heaviest secrets
Someone to love the worst part of you
Someone to love the ugliest part of you
Someone to accept your insecurties and kiss them until they are too far to reach.
Someone to teach poetry and art like it was all we had left.
Somone to make parallel lines intersect.
Someone to defy gravity.
Someone to capture moments in still forms and make them sing.
Until proven that this person exists..

Love is just a myth.

Love. Tianamonique.