The Easy Way Out
I know I’m not in love with you
And do you know how I can tell?
Because I haven’t written you into a poem, used words to craft your homage
I’m not doing that now, in case anyone asks
and if they ask, I could not tell them why
why I am not in love with you
by this time, I normally am
if this were my first or second or, hell, seventh, heartbreak
I’d be sure of how I feel and what I want
I’m always so sure
ironic, then, how it never works out
maybe the difference is doubt
and I will proceed with caution
and just a bit of trepidation
maybe it will not be incendiary, and that’s okay
or maybe you’re just another not-the-one
that’s the most likely scenario
whether I cannot stop my heart from escaping my chest
or the tsunami of thoughts from overwhelming me
is not the measure of success
just another trip down lover’s lane
a fall that’s all too easy for me
so if I am not in love with you, maybe
maybe I am finally learning not to take
the easy way out