Blouse- Forever 21
Bridge at the Stuyvesant Falls
When did it become loathsome to sing praises of the one you love. When did "weak" become the word to describe someone who holds true to their promises? When did the glory of you and I becoming we, morph from a holy union to signs of dependancy. How have we come so far and yet set ourselves so far back. Can love no longer hold significance for its lack of measurable value?
What happened to the days when lovers sent poetry, not text messages? The days where pen was put to paper? Sounds of eloquent emotions were abound, love was seen, embraces of great proportions shared? Love was not left to short-hand strokes at a keyboard.
And what then of success? From what, of what have you gained success? Shall we only feel pride if the things we hold dear have weight, size or volume. Is success having things that can be bought or sold?
To you I would have gave myself, gladly. I saw no fault in loving. To me it seemed no bit a failure. Am I the weaker of us two, to see the value of "you and I"?
-excerpt from VHW's "I Will be the Weaker of Us Two".