Photo by Tobias Tullius on Unsplash

Not that you don’t make me happy, you do.

But the unhappiness stays…

It sits in the corner as we laugh, patiently waiting for its turn.

Not that you don’t care for me, you do.

But the assurance never stays…

The vast ocean of distrust, always swelling.

It is strange what we have — You and I.

Never fulfilling, always questioning, ever gnawing love.