From a psychological perspective, your love poetry seems to to vacillate mainly between the final 3 stages of the 7 stage grieving process. So that’s something at least! Always nice to hear your voice too.
The times we live in changed everyone didn’t they? You’ve suffered more than most.
I write things like this as therapy to help me process stuff, but you’re right. Sometimes these things feel more like a burst of weather or an unexpected dog bounding in.
They cannot be predicted or made sense of and that’s the problem really because other than avoid further attachments forever we have no way of ensuring it never happens again.
There’s a saying “grief is the price we pay for love” and doesn’t just mean physical death but I also think it extends to the death of a love. Maybe too many of us think ourselves good shoplifters and we’ll never get caught, won’t have to pay.
It’s a tad dramatic isn’t it? Full moons make me feel it.
From a psychological perspective, your love poetry seems to to vacillate mainly between the final 3 stages of the 7 stage grieving process. So that’s something at least! Always nice to hear your voice too.
I’m prone to being a little over dramatic, what can I say…..
Cheers :)
What is poetry if not a drama distilled to bare language? You’re just writing from the heart and it shows.
Wonderful, really nice
thank you :)
The times we live in changed everyone didn’t they? You’ve suffered more than most.
I write things like this as therapy to help me process stuff, but you’re right. Sometimes these things feel more like a burst of weather or an unexpected dog bounding in.
They cannot be predicted or made sense of and that’s the problem really because other than avoid further attachments forever we have no way of ensuring it never happens again.
There’s a saying “grief is the price we pay for love” and doesn’t just mean physical death but I also think it extends to the death of a love. Maybe too many of us think ourselves good shoplifters and we’ll never get caught, won’t have to pay.
As Skee-lo says
“I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat
And a six-four Impala”
What I mean is sadly ‘wishing’ will not change anything. Unfortunately! Neither wishing nor hoping. Oh I’m on to Dusty, now….😂😂