23rd March 2009

Artwork.
Encompassing the deep blue of every seat.
The rigid superfluous marks
     that outlines the shapes of a
     cold, barren yesterday.
Of last year,
     little did I know.
Of this year,
     I know a lot,
     if not too much.
The flashes of light that exceed my vision
     blur a distant memory.
True of things I never chose to hate,
but never the ones that hurt;
The chunks of metal that fly past,
     as I slow to a gloomy amble.

“Yes,” I wrote, to a statement that was said.
Two years ago, a question,
     ”Yes”, I said,
     though I should have refused.
For now I understand,
after grasping what I’d learnt.
That sometimes, truly, only love could
     take away the hurt.