The human mind is a curious thing
Thoughts run faster than we think,
Fewer things stand out louder than emotions
Lies that generations have built,
To what do I owe the pleasure of what I feel?
This unexpected reality?
Faced with this castle of lies
Though the truth is bitter,
It’s the sweet illusion that I despise.
From the beginning we are told
To build a home, a household
With the perfect mate of your dreams,
A prince or princess
Take your pick
The lies disappear in a puff
Plopped in the middle of the bed
We find ourselves
With a stranger instead.
Once the deed is done
We find ourselves surprised,
Hardly did it matter that we had met
Once or twice
The charming toss of sentiments by fate,
To please the crows
We ventured into the unknown.
Tiny smiles, short spurts of laughter
Mistaken for contentment
A happily ever after
A home built under someone else’s expectations
Hardly stands for long,
For what is love but a substitute for contentment?
An emotion knitted into existence by others
To fit into the same prison as everyone,
A generational shackle
Masked as tradition.
The rare ones that do meet
To the symphony of their heartbeats
They do find themselves mystified
To be surrounded by the distorted views
Of love from the rational minds
And what is love they all say
A substitute for companionship
An excuse for desire?
Definitions are what we perceive
Our only need to be
Anything but lonely.
