In a classroom where love is teaches– why am I love’s favourite?
I am that student who never fails to fail, to falter, to bend and to break.
Why am I love’s favourite to hate?
When I have given all that I can give.
My time, my self, my art, my soul, and yet I have nothing left to reap.
I devote my time, honing my skills. I have become kinder, less demanding, more forgiving, and yet I have nothing but sermons to receive.
I do my best. I try my hardest.
To give my all, without return but I never past love’s test.
I have offered my arm, bruised and scarred and blue from the fingers that touched me and then left.
I am beginning to believe that I’ve become love’s hidden mistress, the one who mourns in silence never screaming out for help.
I have told myself that maybe all of this is but a trial.
For me to overcome, for me to learn as a child.
But for every time, I give my heart, so ready to love and to learn
I never get anything in return.
Maybe that’s love’s new test
To learn how to love and never expect the best.
But for every time, I try to keep my heart at bay and my mind at ease
I learn to realise that I’m always at a miss.
I have given my all!
All of my prayers lifted up above, because I just want to fall!
Carelessly, dangerously, I just want to fall in love.
But love never gives me anything for me to hold.
And now I am here again, scraping for the love that I sold my soul to.
And now I’m still singing the same old blues.
I don’t know what else to give.
I don’t know if I still can give.
I’ve been rhyming all of their names to every melody I sing.
And so I ask myself, is love teaching me once more?
Why am I love’s favourite when it comes to closing doors?
Maybe love’s not for me after all.