What Lovers Mean [Poetry]

Love never made much sense to me; the concept
creates a disconnect between what we
say and what we mean.

The first time, my best friend spoke it between
sobs, as her tears soaked my shirt and the sun set.
The second time was my first boyfriend, as if two
teens concerned with the right angles of paralleled parking
know enough about chemistry.

Those three words seemed like a pit of quicksand to me;
each time I said it, each time I squirmed, it pulled me
down deeper, a slow suffocation.

The third was a lie to a dying man, as if I was the
wish he made.

Each one said 'love,' but I perceive they meant 'want'
or 'need.' Their hearts weren't beating beyond their chests;
they wouldn't bleed for me.

Lovers never quite say what they mean.

The words became an infinity, and unescapable loop 
love seems to catch me in.

When we travelled in metaphors, 'I love you,'
'Forever,' and 'Always' became metaphors too.

© 2014 | Jazelle Handoush