The Shadow of Love

Is this what love becomes, 

a bargain struck in the dark?

A touch exchanged for a touch,

a body measured only by what it can still provide.

I stand here,

bones heavy with pain,

each step a quiet battle,

while your hunger speaks louder

than my suffering ever could.

I can barely walk.

Yet still you reach,

not for my hand,

not for my heart,

but for what remains of me

that can still be taken.

Do you know what loneliness is?

It is lying beside someone

and feeling abandoned.

It is speaking

and hearing only silence.

It is watching your tears

disappear into a room

that never answers back.

The shadow of loneliness

has become my closest companion.

It follows me through every doorway,

sleeps beside me every night,

whispers that this is what love is... 

a cold place,

a dark hole I stumbled into by accident,

falling deeper with every passing year.

And still I find them, 

the hidden closets,

the buried dust,

the secrets tucked behind locked doors.

Each discovery another wound.

Each wound another reminder

that I was never enough.

Not the first choice.

Not the cherished one.

Just a stand in.

A puppet dancing on worn strings.

A tool picked up when needed,

set aside when not.

So tell me... 

is this what love is supposed to be?

Or have I been mourning its absence all along?