The Rules of Love

You were taught the rules.  Never get close. Never love anything that doesn’t love you back. To be doubly safe, don’t love anything at all.

They say your eyes are the brownest of browns, that they’re a kaleidoscope of ambers, honeys and maples. But you know it’s more than that. Your eyes scream the secrets you been dying to speak aloud. You can’t breathe because the secrets are stealing space inside your lungs and they don’t leave any more room for air. Those secrets are in your blood stream and will soon start clogging your arteries. You are made of secrets. All of those secrets.

And when they ask you what’s wrong, all you want to do is tell them. You create conversations in your head and think the words are close to escaping from your lips but none of the right ones ever form. They wait for an answer, but you just stay silent. You apologize but they heard it a million times before. It doesn’t mean anything any longer. Especially if you don’t mean it.

Then, they will leave and forget all about you. It’s better that way, for all of them and the people that they actually love and who love them back. It’s easier, but your heart continues to shatter into a million teenier pieces. You’re empty. So empty.

You were taught all the rules.  Never get close. Don’t love anything. It’s safer that way.


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