Walking Away While Seeking Love-

I wanted to live a lonely life with the
required wealth to have every luxury,
because I couldn’t afford love.
As love, costs a fortune.
Love costs the tears dripping
desperate resolve.
Love costs being cautious of losing,
the well-awaited happiness,
wrapped in yarn threads born from worry.
I wondered when would I feel happy,
amidst this tightening grip,
from worry’s yarn threads.
I choose to denounce the uncertainty,
that of which love leaves me in.
I chose trading money to be,
a part of another’s joy.
Lack of Love? I feel a void,
but I’ll be safe if I don’t fill such a void.
Because it hurts to hold something dear,
in a delicate possible loss and toss,
for I’d know how it felt to have it once.
So I’d rather not know,
as ignorance can be bliss.
Once certain things are known,
there is a certain,
unavoidable residual trace.
An aching craving to resolve the absence of
the once concocted puzzles of intimacy, love.
So won’t it be ok if I filled the void with momentary joys
like I was restocking a refrigerator once in a while?
Won’t a long-lasting love become stale?
In times ageing like an item,
left untouched inside a refrigerator for long?
Shall I shop for daily joys,
that needs to be restocked in my life’s refrigerator?
So then I’ll end this search,
to seek food that will age,
to be stale at home rather than in my life.
Yet I wonder could love age,
like cheese or wine,
or rotten vegetables,
in the absence of proper moisture.

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