Relationships are often complex and filled with moments of joy, pain, and introspection. In my latest poem, «Ain’t It Our Fault,» I explore the nuances of a relationship marked by shared mistakes, unspoken truths, and the inevitable passage of time. This poem delves into the emotional journey of two people who once shared a deep connection but find themselves grappling with doubt, insecurities, and the lingering question of where things went wrong.
«Ain’t It Our Fault» reflects on the bittersweet end of a relationship, highlighting the collective responsibility for its demise. The poem begins by acknowledging the initial lust and passion, followed by a series of contradictions and human frailties that lead to broken trust and regret. Through vivid imagery and poignant metaphors, the poem captures the essence of love lost, the weight of unfulfilled promises, and the haunting memories that remain. As the narrator contemplates their actions and the irreversible passage of time, they ultimately confront the harsh reality that sometimes, love simply runs out.
Ain’t It Our Fault
Not to be mentioned,
our sanctioned lust.
Blood throughout our veins,
nothing more after pain.
When they say it’s just a “game.”
Hurry, we walk when we run.
We don’t say when we must,
we break trust with our hands.
We listen to those we shouldn’t,
we tumble where it’s firm.
We make shadows in the clear,
we bring the moon over the sun.
Now in the memory we forget
who we both were.
Now the sourness is left,
the sweetness has melted.
If I made mistakes…
because I did…
I believed I could stay true to you,
and yes… I did.
When you doubted, I faded.
You questioned me,
no opening argument.
We became brave
to kill the bravery of decency,
to leave the insecurities
over the cowardice.
So if this is it…
this will be
the bitter end
of you and I.
When all that remains
are the memories of the past,
the questions of what would be
gone like a finger snap.
So… Ain’t It Our Fault?
It was the wrong time…
My voice will vanish in a whisper,
my image will blur on the screen,
my actions will be a memory…
But as you know… Ain’t It Our Fault?
We just ran out of love.
