The saying that 'true love never dies' could be correct. But I think it can be eroded away: Never completely dying, but diminishing in intensity. It probably means it wasn't 'true' in the first place? It had a defect from the start!
BIT BY BIT
Some of my love died
on the 26th July 1964
And was cremated the same day
Along with my twenty-first
Birthday gift
Tossed into the living room fire,
Her rage and anger
borne on a falsehood
She conjured in her head.
The outcome was that death -
One of many tiny deaths -
Fare stole away endearment
Bit by bit by bit.
© Griffonner 2026
Poetry by Griffonner
Read 31 times
Written on 2026-01-21 at 12:36
Tags Love  Anger  Loss 
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