I talk about love

as my heart calls its name,

but shards of the past

cut with bitterness.

And tears that run

are far from sweet,

salty to my lips,

but the light still glows

over the vacancy sign.

But part of me has surrendered,

and life goes on.

And I drift in solitude,

but I still talk about love.

Maybe if it hears my voice,

it will come and find me,

but my heart knows better.

And I touch the door

that locks me in,

but I will open it.

I just don't know when,

and the future remains a question,

what will become of me?

I have no answer,

but life holds me,

my heart.

No more am I

cut by the past,

so maybe,

that is why

I talk about love.

 

Talk of Love

by, Melissa R. Mendelson