WHY LOVE SHOULD NOT BE

Because I belong to myself, not you.
Galleries of paintings on love only prove
Painters should have had something better to do.
They preach in their paint that love’s elusive,
And most of the time untrue.

Because I belong to the new, not you.
Libraries of books on love prove
Only the old is possibly true.
The pleasing poems I read are few
And nothing that’s written or read is new.

Because I belong to the past, not you,
A past you can never know,
And the more you try, the more I’ll lie,
The more I’ll know
My past is me and will never die.

Because I hate beauty—
Beauty that dies.
I hate the tears in hopeful eyes.
Songs of love the singers sing prove
Lies are sung and loves’ truths
Are falsehoods fed by lies.

Because even when I love, I do not love.
I am merely sickened, I ache;
I am anxious to prove
To myself you aren’t sick for my sake—
And therefore cannot love.

I will not, by any means, abandon you,
Only love—and the question whether love is true.

Let’s study love no more.
Love just leads to war.

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