She didn’t love them, not even herself.
More dark than grey, but yet quite herself.
A secret empty cave, where light once lived,
So empty the cave, sounds rung back at him.
He said he loved her, and he heard it back,
but the stories in the cave kept ending.
She invited strangers back. As if
nothing there to hang on to, nothing pending.
Someone else on her bed tonight, and he is on the wrong side
of her phone. Funny how he forgets to ask, If she loves him anymore.
Did love even start, she asks, and then cries in her lonely night.
So she couldn’t love him, not even herself,
So she empties her cave, like a cat shaking rain free of itself,
If you can’t love everything, try to love what matters in the end,
not the cat, not the cave, not the sky, not the sun,
but the shaking off the rain…