He won’t feel the gut slash.

He won’t feel its cut.

He won’t feel the grieving

He’ll say something, but

His words will have meaning

Only for him

Because that which I feel will

Mean nothing to him.

.

I don’t know what love is

But, bonding is true

And, devotion is proven

In all that we do.

.

We commit through the actions

Mere words can’t decry

And, the thoughts which inform them

Catch wind, and then fly

In the face of denial

Determined to prove

That the feelings they carry

Can make a heart move.

.

But, hearts are not subject

To forces of will

They do what they must do

Until they are still.

.

.

.

.

.

© 3/11/18  Ruth Ann Scanzillo. All rights those of the author, whose story it is and whose name appears above this line. No copying, in whole or part, permitted. Thank you!

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