no more love poems

i asked why i don’t get sonnets anymore?

because i don’t have time to write about love. i have to work.

ain’t that a kick in the head? but it’s what’s real. and what’s wrong. we do these things because we have time for them. then we don’t. we don’t make it either. so things change. we adapt. but we miss certain things. beyonce keeps ringing in my ear “i’m going to keep it how it is, so you never say how it use to be.”

i think it’s something i’ve always been mindful of. how do you keep the energy established at the onset of a relationship? not that things won’t change, as change is the only thing we can guarantee. but, how do you keep the butterflies, the gitty feeling for as long as possible? how do you bring them back when they wain? i believe it is a commitment to keeping your partners hot buttons front and center. give as they receive.

i had to accept the answer. the reality of it. the truth of the moment. it’s raw. an element of the relationship that is both a gift and a curse at times. i don’t always like it, but i do always accept it. i have to. perhaps time will allow my sonnets to return, despite the busy schedule. or perhaps the schedule will shift so smoothly to a place where it naturally allows for the luxury of writing about love again. it’s an addictive drug, and i think i’ve been made a fiend. *googles rehab centers

-the(use to be)muse