Poetry

Not A Love Poem

We only search for temporary love

Picking the one’s we know will not stay

Too afraid of permanent commitments and

Of being someone’s someone.

I mean, who could ever want me?

And that fear about actually caring, is why

We all follow the same painful pattern,

To trigger what we worry we cannot feel.

It becomes a tease of touch and go

Of everything and nothing at all.

To be both satisfied and dissatisfied

With five minutes of heat on a dance floor

After five seconds of glazed eye contact.

Over-sexualised and intoxicated confidence

Leads a stranger’s hand to cup your ass cheek –

Being the lady and politely telling them to fuck off

Just so you can be called the rude one,

In the lovers game of pick’n’mix.

“Get off me, get off me, get away from me!”

That nightly chant of young love.

*

Sweaty nightclubs made up of pressed bodies

Moving to an invisible animalistic rhythm-

This is the modern hunting ground.

Straight men on their knees in bathroom cubicles

And single girls hugging toilet seats

As walls break down behind stalls.

Dressed up and messed up,

You’re just another young person having fun.

So go find your love of the night

And let them take more than your inhibitions.

A nibble on your ear and then those slurred whispers

Saying what you could never admit you wanted to hear.

Losing your friends and losing your fears

You let yourself finally feel the freedom of youth.

Isn’t this fun? Isn’t this good?

I’ll regret this come morning.

But this is the longest relationship you can have

That won’t leave you missing the other person,

When they leave you with an emptiness

To be filled with emotions you never thought you had.

*

Maybe that’s why I only search for temporary love.

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7 thoughts on “Not A Love Poem

  1. Searching only temporary love – love that is, which may not even qualify as love proper (whatever it may be) – indeed appears to be the only thing people ever do these days. Perhaps they have never done otherwise. I, for one, have never looked for temporary love. I am someone who commits himself to someone else, who wishes to hear the other person’s views and opinions, who will be there when they fall to catch them. Perhaps I am simply doing it wrong. This is not how one is supposed to play the game, now, is it? But then again, I did not choose to play at this game in the first place.

    Is this as recent as its date says, or did you write it at an earlier occasion?

    I feel, on a side note, at home among all these books to the left and to the right. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It was written a few days previous to the date published. Love is such a complex affair I think everyone approaches it in different ways over the years 🙂

      Like

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