4 Last Call: Fabricated Love

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Fabricated Love

my heart quakes;
earth-shattering tremors
only I can feel
course through me.
I search for safety,
the open embrace
of -- the only thing I have
to cling to -- fabricated
love.

and so

I scroll through my memory
to find
one I might resurrect
one I might breathe 'life' back into

but while the list is vast
each has been reworked so many times,
worn down 'til threadbare,
unable to provide the warm embrace
meant to comfort me
meant to protect my heart

I'm tired
      tired of
inventing -- reinventing
that which eludes me otherwise
that which I've choosen to starve
myself of

and so
once again

I reluctantly fabricate
love.

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An Aside:  I recently decided to take inventory of a collection I have (not) been working on, called Diary of an Anorexic Love Life (not to be confused with an Anorexic's Love Life).  I calculated, with those written prior to this blog and those composed here I was up to 17.  I read through each and sorted them into (five) categories. 

I've been kind of off the past couple of weeks--unable to find the words as easily as I would like.  Every thought quickly fizzles.  And so I guess with so little inspiration floating around my (unmotivated and overworked) mind, I thought it might be good to try to refocus myself on something.  And so here is number 18.

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This is my offerings for this week's dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight. If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.

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