I counted
You placed me in danger
Thirteen separate times
In two hours
Don’t tell me that you love me
When I know that’s a lie

I remember promising you guys that I would post a picture of the doodlings I sketch out, while waiting for words to arrive on paper. An epiphany occurred after I’d drawn this picture, then a poem created from a memory.

The picture is meaningless, well not the thirteen heavily drawn red tallies, it seems, which have permanently indented the next few pages of my tablet, but overall it’s just doodles.

What I’ve realized is that actions DO speak louder than words. Yes, this message has been heard a million times before, I know. Now, the missive is understood. Finally. Lack of protection will never translate into love. Not for me, anyway.


32 thoughts on “Proof

  1. I have found those believing lack of protection is love have many deep problems. This was a very thought provoking poem. So nice you attached the doodle since the genesis of the thirteen needed some explanation. (if one was unprotected by a discrete thirteen incidents and they were tallied I would believe co-dependency was at play). Geez you got me rolling this morning. Nice job.


  2. Your poem sparks thoughts of the story behind it, the relationship between the “I” and the “You” for all the danger and the lies. You did a great job packaging a broader story into a short poem.


  3. This is my favourite poem of yours. It makes me think of those times when you are stuck in the car of someone who’s an aggressive or reckless driver, a supposed friend who is risking your life.


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