By C.H

I often found myself in a state of confusion 

A discomforting liminal plane 

In between love and lust 

I’m not sure I ever learned the difference 

Until I met you

the smiles of men 

when I paint my face 

and embellish my body 

their kindness in this moment 

this was the only love I had ever known

      What I’ve learned in recent times 

      Is 

      That this is not love 

      But, rather, lust 

when we first met 

you were tasked 

with my deprogramming 

      Love is not dependent 

      On your willingness to 

      Show out and people please 

      In spite of your own discomfort 

i think back to days of 

butterfly shaped sandwiches on bunny bread 

the monotonous days of golf in bed 

with Him 

     This love was tainted 

      Dependent on my ability 

      To refrain from honesty 

      My ability to hold on to a mask 

i think back to when He loved me 

or at least claimed to 

the light inside him when we touched

melting my soul like a thawing heart

      This was not love 

       It really never was 

       This so called love 

       Dependent on my willingness to touch 

       Him 

       Who I once wholeheartedly

       Labeled my entirety 

now i think back to moments with you 

sun beaming on our gentle faces 

as we lay in the grass 

i think back to the first 

i love you. 

before we even embraced 

      You didn’t have to tell me 

      This was real love 

      The purity of the sensation 

      Spoke for itself

I don’t blame those men 

I don't blame Him or Him 

For painting this false ideology within me 

I only blame myself for believing in it

To be fair 

I don't think they had learned 

The difference between love and lust 

And every complex plane in their shadow