cycle

she only told him she loved him.

maybe that was the problem.

those three words held as much weight

as the air she used to say them.

what catastrophic event did she miss?

when did her smiles become strained?

when did every 'i love you'

become just another chain?

whatever the case,

this was not a battle she could win.

the wound had already healed.

she was inexorably changed.

she knew that in war, there were

no winners. only the remains of

society that we once named civil,

left to count the bodies of victims.

love was not war, it shouldn't

have gotten this far. she resolved

to tell him the truth, whatever

truth she could comprehend.

but a look at him smiling,

his hand in hers, swinging.

she thought of him crying,

and felt another chain in the loop.