An Abnormal, and Not So Abnormal, Admiration For Misery.

Dear Love, 

this isn't a romantic letter

nor one of resentment.

It's one full of confusion

aligning itself to form peace.

A peace of mind, a balance inside

I am writing to no one and although you do have another name,

I'll still call you "My Love" and I'll gladly carry you ever so heavily

until God rips us apart.

The numbers say you can be deadly

poison waiting for the edge of impulsion to linger

Closer, closer.

I feel you deep in my skin.

Dear Love, my enemy

I'm glad you exist because

without you my soul wouldn't glow as bright

So watch me closely in the dark, along your side

please do try to conquer me and softly whisper "I am your demise"

because oh darling,

You push me down yet I'd still hold your hand 

You're terrible at lying.

You're lying, my dearest friend.

You weren't only made to fill holes in the ground and

fill bones of suffocating doubt,

You were created to feed the flame inside of me

This passion, this motivation

They say I only have 4 more sessions to go but I will cut them short

because I've built up a new spine

with sticks and stones

to hold up my hands towards the sky 

towards the stars of this world until the day I become one

and light up on my own.

 

Sincerely Yours,

a fierce and grateful lover.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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