Veronica Monroe

What is a kiss, 

And where does it lead? 

Does it lead to the dungeons

Of torturous pleasure? 

That feels so good, 

So intoxicating, 

But where are the souls in this? 

Where's God, as He turns His face, 

So disgusted He might puke

As our souls are held hostage

But no string of fate

Ties us together?

Is it a kiss of life, 

That leads to green pastures,

Straight, long, yet meaningful roads? 

Or is it a kiss

That dries up the grass,

Turning it into shriveled hay,

Causing us to stumble and fall? 

We breathe each other's air

But are we being sustained by it? 

We're together,

But do we feel alive? 

Or are we like rotting corpses,

Living in a tomb, but not in love?

Bodies are connected, skin is touching,

But are we connected? Are our

hearts touching? Or are we

Nothing more than a pair of hands? 

What's the point in all of this? 

We can't lie in a flower bed without being pricked. 

I can't do this anymore.