Idiot Love

But we were just idiots

Thinking we could play house forever

When really all we had in common was loneliness

And a capacity for lying

We lie to embitter the honest

And so their jealousy helps anchor the lie

The fantasy into reality

Self-made relationship

Made of other-made people

Then though reality eventually starts to crack the windows of our pretend house

The spider web in the glass grows with each passing moment we spend alone

With each other, without the nurturing warmth of societies jealousy

Eventually the vacuum of the real must break through

And implode the fantasy that you made insular from it

Because all lies are really lies made to yourself,

Other people are simply reassurance,