I talk oddly, I know
One of the oddest things
Is calling people "Love."
I mean, why do I do that?
Do I ever mean it?
In a way, I wish I didn't
Causes trouble, it does
Makes them believe I care
When all they really are
Is a shield against the loneliness
And the loneliness and I
Are good friends, to be fully honest
I am used to her company by now
Words keep me company
Bitter bulwarks against the madness
Do I call people "love"
Intending that they fall for me?
I'm not certain
I hope I don't...
They'll only end up hurt
Honestly, I would prefer it
If I was less honest
Kept a few things secret
I've said so much that I
Am truly ashamed of
But maybe doing this
Makes me face it
Ah, a revelation
I've faced before
But I am now quite off track
How many people do I call:
Love, sweetheart, hun
And more?
I am not certain
It just slips out
Do I mean all this affection?
I'm not sure I do
I mean, it's interesting
But it can be pretty bad
If they start believing it....
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I love you, random stranger. Thanks for dropping by, and for dropping a line. --Half Mad Writer