Best to Kill It While It’s Young

dead loveMaybe the merciful thing
Would be to kill it while it’s young,
Like some larvae still unformed—
Early before we know what it might become.

Then again, I could replace this love
With what came before—
Loneliness or primal fear.
Or pry it off my heart,
Drop it where it cannot grow.

Love is like magic in the world.
Do we ever know what’s real or
Is it imagined from our dreams,
Wishes— forgotten or remembered
From what once was or is yet to be?

If love is cast away to die,
Can one say it was by mistake,
Lost like a precious ring
In swamp of paranoid darkness?
To give away your heart is a terrible thing.

Who can predict what will happen,
How long anything might last?
Better to keep love distant like a woodpecker
Who would tap upon the door,
Then eat the wood and fly away.

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