This is not a love song

Apropros of nothing (no seriously) I’ve made a little more progress on an almost-poem I’ve been carrying round in my head for absolutely ages.. I haven’t any space for it anymore and I doubt I’ll ever improve it to the point of it having any point, I might as well just post it as is.

This is not a love song

This is not a love song.
I do not love you.
Did I ever?
I don’t remember.

I can stop thinking about you.
You don’t drive me crazy.
I guess we had fun
but the details are hazy.

I can live if living is without you.

I do not see you everywhere I look.
I may have seen you across a crowded room
and not realised it was you.

I no longer remember what you wore when we met,
or on any occasion after that.

I close my eyes and can’t remember your face.
Your eyes.. blue, weren’t they or brown, possibily?
And your hair, you had hair, I’m fairly sure you of that.

The sound of your voice has faded from my mind.
And even your name escapes me occasionally.

I do not wonder where you are.
But I’d be sad to hear you had died.. I guess.

How do I love you?
Let me count the ways.
Not one, not two, not any.

This is not a love song.
I do not love you.
And why I am telling you this?
I don’t really know.

About caspar

Caspar is just one monkey among billions. Battering his keyboard without expectations even of peanuts, let alone of aping the Immortal Bard. By day he is an infantologist at Birkbeck Babylab, by night he runs
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