Love lies bleeding in the aftermath of a broken life.

People pass and stare, sympathy slowing at the tragedy

if for no other reason than to inwardly declare

there but by the grace of holy shit I am glad that’s not me.


There is a connection in the face of real tragedy,

what is real tragedy these days?

when losing of life and limb are no longer viable

people don’t want to give sympathy

because they feel less of themselves

by lending credence to another’s plight.


Compassion is dying

and love cannot exist without compassion.

Is compassion the catalyst of love?

Can one exist without the other?

This conundrum is a quandary

for the emotions seem simultaneous.


Can there be love without compassion?

What is compassion without love?

To feel compassion for another doesn’t equate

as being in love, but it is to acknowledge empathy,

in love there is  vulnerability, leaving one open

to be emotionally raped and destroyed by another.




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