Conversing With a Ghost

I once knew what love was

Pithy dribble
This overused line
Overindulged crap
Over known
Over used
Over expressed

Until I lost my love

Again, sophomoric
Simplistic altruism of ideals
“Love” as understood by
Youth and young minds
Simplistic crap

Then I knew what it had been

Drivel pointed at youth
Feminine over emoting?
Is this feminine?
Self commentary whilst
Commenting on my own work?

(What would masculine writing be?
Would it be a one shot poem?
No deeper meaning?
No redoubled compound expressions?
One line of direct intent?)

Love is known through loss

Utter crap bleeding all over the page
Should be killed, murdered
Maybe should have been a still born
Ugly in its overly hopeful imagination
Useless bile spouting from-
I hate myself most of all.

(That would be it then.
Something like that.)

And loss brings Love into focus

Not knowing, not experienced
Foolish thoughts, I hate more for
How they make me feel
Am I losing my own ground?
This is bullshit

(That’s not what I think.
I think I want to read more.
I am a bit confused
By your hatred.)
You always were.

Until Love, a seed harder than stone

(This is what I mean;
It brings
and hope brings life.
Can you see that
at least?)

Let’s just move on,
Shall we?

And more true than I could have known

Drivel again.


Planted within my breast a hope and trust

Like a bad investment

(Stop that.)


That will grow to truth and purity

Are you truly
reading, or being tortured by,
the same thing
I am?
If you are,
Then you can’t seriously
accept it;
It’s tripe, emotional
shallow and futile
The world is so much more
Complex and difficult to deal with
Than simple sentiments
Drooled onto a blank page

(You miss it too,
I know you do.
I do too.)

Miss what? Pain?
Hatred? Anguish?
Doubt? Fear?
No thanks,
I have enough on my own.

Creating a future brighter than I knew

(Let the hope,
the simple
calming hope of it
ease your pain
erase fear
and doubt
and anguish.)

I can’t.
Not yet.

And tomorrow, when Love comes again

(It will come again.)

That’s what I fear.

I will know it for what it is.

That’s why I hate it.

(It can heal you.)

That’s why I fear it.

(It can set you free.)

That’s why I loathe it.

(Don’t hide from it.)

I’m loath to acquiesce.

the leaves grow on
your struggling bud.
Love will not
kill you
But do not kill

Too late.


Then we will fly.

I would fly.

(You still will.)


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