There’s a boy and a girl,
Sitting at a bar.
They don’t speak.
They don’t laugh.
They don’t kiss.
They sit there at the bar,
And sip their drinks quietly.
Strangers pass them by, confused by this.
The strangers come from a warm love,
Where you speak,
Where you laugh,
Where you kiss.
And you barely notice your drinks,
Because you’re lingering on your love’s every word.
But the boy and the girl don’t find it odd.
The boy and the girl don’t know a warm love.
They know a silent understanding,
They know a mutual discomfort with touch,
They know a shared trauma,
That make them shrivel up
When the pressures of expected affection are placed on them by strangers.
And they know,
There’s plenty of love,
Layered over by exhaustion and fear,
But they’re strong enough to love each other anyways,
In the ways they’ve taught each other to.
Content with being a pair of hollowed out lovers.
AJ's Creative Corner 