Wrong

A woman once told me that love

was like a bullet in your back

She said it was like a blow to the head,

swirling vertigo made you sick

but I know better.

Love is the kiss to a scraped knee,

and the embrace to a fractured heart,

it is the swallow whose wings brush your insides and

the bobby pins you find in your bed late at night,

it is the scent of cologne that is not yours mingled in your dreams 

and the memory of someone you once knew so well.

Reviews

[Alex]

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but I like how you cover two very different - even opposite - stances on love...and titled the poem "Wrong". At first, I figured that it was referring to the first stance, which the narrator disagrees with. But now I'm not so sure. Maybe the title is the actual narrator, judging BOTH stances, or even love itself. The title says more about the poem than the poem itself, and I eat that s**t up!

[. serah .]

~~ ah... well... i won't agree with you a 100% because i recently said that love is a prison camp... :P ... but that doesn't stop me from appreciating the earnestness with which this poem's been written... :)

[gnarlym]

Love is many things and I always love to see other people's interpretations! Thank you!

[. serah .]

~~ well... i think i might be unfair because my story is sad... ~~ and... you're very welcome...