It Can’t be Love

I used to think

love was a mirror

it looked back.

It reached for you

when you reached for it.

 

But then you happened.

 

You, with the quiet eyes

and a voice I still hear

in the silence.

You, who smiled like

nothing was missing

while I kept offering

pieces of myself,

hoping you’d notice

I was breaking.

 

I prayed.

Not for you to love me,

just to feel something.

But I was talking to a locked door,

hoping it would turn into a window.

 

And still, I waited.

And still, I believed.

 

But looking back now,

I know what happened between us

couldn’t have been love.

 

Because God wouldn’t be so cruel

as to let us love something

that could never

love us back.

 

But maybe

belief is softer than truth,

and love,

more reckless than fair.

Sip & Support