Shapes

I wanted our love to be a heart.
But sometimes it feels like a circle.
As if we are running around chasing each other
And chasing our own thoughts
Sometimes it feels like a square, with four right angles
Because we think it’s all right
But some sides are longer than others
And we realize it’s a rectangle
Maybe some days it’s a triangle.
There are only two of us,
So why are there three sides to this story?
Some days it’s a rhombus,
Just like a square with everything right,
But a little bent out of shape.
Shapes
Why can’t it be a heart?
Why do the others get involved?
Maybe our shape isn’t a shape anymore
Maybe there’s a break
We have bent and break
And now we are no longer a shape.






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