Life is a Tragedy

I’ve realized many times that in other languages

There are multiple words that mean love

But In English, there is only one

Supposedly, I should think this is tragic

But it occurs to me that there is no phrase in any language

For how my heart broke with love

Watching you exist in moments when you forgot you were alive

Or looking at you dreaming made cold winter mornings feel like being kissed by the sun in July

By themselves these memories are nothing

But from a distance, neither is anything at all

Maybe life is just a tragedy

And I should count myself lucky

That there is no word for hiding under a blanket

With nothing to light on fire except yourself

So I don’t have the words to tell you,

And you will never know

And maybe you don’t have to

And maybe, life is a tragedy

But then again, maybe so am I.