Love, Love Not
What if I don’t choose to love again?
stacking memories of love with memories of loss
bittersweet cravings adrift in my distractions.
It is not that I lost my desires or attractions
nor the muse that inspires my pen
but my options run wild in this game
and sometimes it is easier alone-
Nature is long past, I’m already done
with my disillusion,
everything exhausted , nothing else to claim
if only a resolution
not to love again-
“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely—at least, not all the time—but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967