How does one
Love and hate?
A sickly sweet
But bitter taste.

No sanity,
No self-respect.
Just you and I,
Bodies full of sweat.

We are soaking wet,
As you draw me in.
You're adoring,
And attractive.
Yet gruesome,
And grim.

But you win.

Your prize,
Is my mind.
And that is bold and unkind.

But alas,
I chose to try.
But you hid the key
I am too weary to find.

We ask ourselves;
‘Why?’
That ‘life was made to die’,

But if we continue to ponder,
We turn grim,
And somber.

For this question is up to us.
A creation of an answer,
One can trust.

As one can love,
And finally adjust.

A thought pierces my mind,
Like a knife to a heart.

A slow memory forms,
As I feel a blistery wind.

Goosebumps on my skin,
I am no longer here.

My eyes,
Flooding like water,
A memory is near.

Emotions,
Unclear.

Breathing,
Unsteady and loud,
Mind blocked
Beneath a hundred clouds.

The silence is loud.

But I arrive back,
The moon rises up the corner.
As my thoughts wash away,
Just like water.

From distance,
To distant.
My reflection,
Reminiscent
On what it used to be.

What it used to see.
What it could believe,
And achieve.

But time,
And change,
Makes its way
Through our space.

Plays tricks to teach
Us on life,
And it's games.

But we adapt,
And adopt at a stage,
Where we accept
That life is strange.

But all shall be okay.

We are empty,
Half naked.
Our bodies meet the eye,
The room is quiet,
Sacred.

You slowly walk,
Our eyes talk,
Your lips,
They quiver.

Your voice,
Makes me shiver.

I am smaller,
My body polluted in sweat.

For one magical move ,
And I,
Am now undressed.

I think you may suspect the rest.

How I would,
Or could
Open my heart,
To let you in.

In a race to the finish line,
I would let you win.

On a day of judgement,
I would hide your sin.

For all of you,
I would half my soul.

Dig deeply for days,
To build you a home.

And although
These words may flow,
They cannot express
My true interest,

In you and I
To love until we’re old.

A season for joy ,
Swings quickly by.

Frosty roads,
And shady skies.

For icicles form,
In the roof of my mind

As this season
Is bitter,
But sweet to the eye.