He says he loves me

peekaboo.

He says he loves me
but doesn’t really get me,
knows he can’t fix me.

That should be enough,
make me feel gooey and stuff,
break right through my bluff.

Ain’t got shit to give.
What is that word? –Impassive.
I wonder: Why live?

Music, humor, art…
Okay, I will play my part.
I don’t give a shart.

For the kids, I’ll stay.
I will smile day after day.
In the breeze I’ll sway.

No, you can’t fix me.
Not sure how you could love me.
We’ll just have to see.

Won’t we?

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20 thoughts on “He says he loves me

  1. Pingback: Spam and Eggs #2 | Bleached Bone Valley

    • Amazingly put together the wrapping on this! I am so overtooken with the possibilities. The raspberry ketones run the magic on the roof! Please to tell me how I may obtain such informations for my community gathering together in under three weeks!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, spam. Ya gotta love it. I love the poem more though. I could really relate to this. Isn’t it amazing how anyone can possibly love those of us who’re forever trying to outrun the black dog of depression?

    Like

Lay it on me.

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