Love

I guess I always thought that
true love could belong to anyone
not just the disposable sort of game
to which I have grown so accustomed
sadly
One time I believed it was searching for me
destined for me, like a right of passage
arriving soon without a doubt
yet it appears to have lost its way
strangely
Why does it seem so easy for those
with no fear or dread of loneliness,
do they have some special attribute
or a predisposition so different
from mine
Or is it just I that refuse to admit
How afraid I am of what it means
perhaps it came and backed away
sorry that it found me so empty and
needy
Too much to bear, Love says again
no way to fix that broken heart
who cries for what it won’t accept
who crawls away in dismay, so
ineptly
Yet, the sadness is overbearing and
how unkind the eyes that look upon
with pity the barren empty carcass
who can’t confine the torturing pain
that numbs
Leaving all that was alive and waiting
dried to dust and blown with the winds
into the wrinkled crevices of expired hope
no longer wanting, no longer needing
just alone