Highway drives, random rides, he was up for fun.
He held my hand as we listened to tunes.
We would chat about politics, friends, and news.
Conversation just flowed with any topic we'd choose.
He would puff on natural stuff, and I would drink all the booze.
I'd play in his hair and he would always close his eyes and smile.
We'd escape in our place and allow our passion to run wild.
Our hearts moved inches and then soared for miles.
He wanted us to pour our love into making a child.
But then there was the fighting, and the hurt feelings.
The light that shone on us fell hard from loves ceiling.
Loves walls were crumbling and the paint was peeling.
Love was breaking down faster than we could do the healing
We couldn't buy back all the happiness the drama was stealing
God wouldn't answer our prayers so we both quit kneeling.
Each day resentment would continue to build.
day by day until our house was filled
and we couldnt see what we worked to create.
we couldnt change the new house, it was just too late.
Moving out was so hard to do.
loves house didn't just change...he did too.
we often asked each other: "who are you?"
we would claim to be the same, but it just wasn't true.
Then one day, it was just done.
I had him, and then I had no one.
the house that love built, was just a memory.
of me and him, except he was a she.
Relationships are relationships.
Love is love.
Comments
Post a Comment