I am bored with love
and it’s passionless limbs
that drape over my bed
in a lethargic state of impotence
while wearing the same red heart
my soul picked up hitchhiking
off highway serendipity
Now here we are
alone in togetherness
trying to build dreams
with two by fours and glue,
but even a home
won’t tie us together
when our hearts live alone
Poetic vows cliched
into nothingness
like all words do, eventually
and we allowed
our bodies to become
another pair of hollow shadows
that make love to a wall
instead of each other
and we wonder why
the roses are dying
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