Love is not soft life the movies, or even how your mom tells you as you fall asleep as a young child.
love pushes past all your limits not caring how much it will destroy you, love basks in your pain.
cupid is a cruel man, that evil bow of his stabbing and twisting deep inside you.... yet you welcome it, you want it to strike you, hoping it will let someone love you the way you think love is.
but it never does.... it's never the right one, or the right time.
anything and everything trying to stop you, well cupid laughs in your face.
your mother never tells you how loving someone who doesn't love you back will ******* destroy you.... there is nothing like it.
the nights you spend hoping that one day they'll look at you even just a little how you look at them.
you spend hours ripping yourself apart because they so easily make you feel like not enough, probably oblivious to all of it because they don't care, they never did, and never will.
so now you live though some small fragments of who you used to be, hoping that one day everything will go back to normal and you can forget them and what they did to you.
but love doesn't work like that, it's wired in a way where you'll never forget.
love scars so deep yet so easily.
before you can even exhale you've fallen so far down that it feel's like your going to suffocate.
love is not dancing in the clouds, or singing in the rain, it's not falling asleep in the arms of comfort.
it's stabbing, and wounds.... blood dripping from parts of yourself you didn't even know existed, it's crying and crying and crying because you aren't enough in the eyes of the person you worship.
it's drowning out yourself just to hear their voice.
it's becoming a shadow and distant reflection of who you used to be, with their initials engraved on the marrow of your hallowed out bones.  
love is not soft and beautiful like an early morning breeze.
it's so close to death, but you never really truly end the suffering and die.

Blue is how I feel about you....
Blue is how cold my blood runs whenever I think about you.
Blue and black is the colour of the sky and rain the night you told me you were leaving, the night you chose to not be with me.
Blue were your eyes that I so willingly drowned in.
Blue is now my only emotion.
when I think about you, my eyes flash with blue.... when the sky so bright and beautiful crowds over me.
Blue is how I die, remembering you.

I'm so sick of writing about pain, and how it's taking me over.
I wanna scream for everything to stop.
the pain and hurt and sickness.
curl myself up in a ball and forget what it was like to feel.... I just wanna stop feeling everything so deeply for just a second so I can start thinking clearly.
I'm somewhat convinced the darkness hates me, refusing to give me any sort of rest.
I've forgotten what the word sleep means.
nobody knows what happens behind that door after 11. the room slowly starts closing in on itself, leaving me such little room to breathe.
It reminds me of everything I've done wrong, everything I've lost.... you.
I've tried to tune it out.... refusing to let it get to me, but always.... it always found a way to rip me apart so silently, so meaninglessly.
no one would believe me even if I told them.
"how can the darkness be so cruel? go to sleep."
I can feel their voices clogging my lungs, everything they say is another stab to my already bleeding heart.
I will scream.... but nobody will hear my pleas for peace.

Passion is something that coats my skin.
It runs through my veins constantly.... knowing that this is it's home.
Passion is a feeling, a power, being alive at midnight because your mind can't shut off. every muscle in your brain always on memorizing unimportant details because that's what catches it's attention.
Passion is having no one match your energy, feeling like nothing is ever enough.
Passion and I are best friends.... always have been. we live for one another. knowing we'll never find a kindred soul.

you think you broke me into a thousand little pieces when you left. and to be truthfully honest you did, but how could I ever tell you that? you left without a second thought, not caring at all about how I felt, or what this would do to such a passionate feeling soul.
so I will never tell you.... that I have sworn to myself, like an oath. keeping secrets has gotten somewhat easier since you left, I don't have to lie to myself about how I thought you would stay, or that you truly loved me. I'd like to say it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but that would be a lie in itself.
somehow I feel empty, but a thousand pounds heavier since your departure.
It doesn't make sense, but nothing did with you.
so I guess I'll keep going, no other option. but I'll do it with a smile on my face (even if it's fake). always remembering that you have broken me but at least you will never know how much....

It's a shame really.... how much paper I've wasted on you.
how many time's I've sat in my room in the late hours of the night replaying everything you did to me.... everything we did to each other.
how I bleed on paper, pouring out the deepest corners of my soul to the only thing that will listen.
still it is a shame how I continue to waste words, paper and ink on you.... how I manifest great sentences to describe how you hurt me.
you don't deserve them, you truly don't deserve anything I've given you, but even after your gone I still manage to sacrifice pieces of myself for you.
I'll sit and waste hour's on something that's supposed to be beautiful.... but you made painful.  
I guess in a way, I hold a pen like you never held me....

Love is.... crying myself to sleep because all I can think about is you, but your probably thinking about her, because it's not me you want.... but what am I supposed to do? because that's what love is.
Love is.... begging the universe to let us be something more than we are, begging it to let us cross paths again because now we are older, less messy.
begging for it to give us that forever we so dearly deserved.
Love is.... standing in the pouring rain because you can't be happy without them, if their here dying your going to die right with them.
Love is.... walking around in a day dream when things are good but a nightmare when everything starts falling apart.
Love is.... staring up at the ceiling, numb at 3 am because they're confusing, telling you they love you, but their actions telling a whole different story. you can slowly feel them disconnecting.
you tried, you really did but your the only one who's constantly fighting for it to work.
Love is.... making up excuses for them because they really mean that much to you, they were just busy.... to tired to check their phone, we're working, maybe sick.
Love is.... killing parts of yourself so they can feel more alive. trying to fill voids left from long ago.
Love is.... letting your heart take over, having no control over who it picks. because in truthful honestly it wasn't supposed to be him.
Love is.... messy and sweet, it's screaming in your pillow in the middle of the night, it's honest and scary, full of hope. it's hot and cold, bitter and beautiful.
Love is.... a paradox full of twists and turns, lies and truths. it's opening yourself up to a stranger but feeling like you've known them your whole life.
Love is.... like coasting that line between life and death, never knowing the ending. if it's going to be the greatest or most tragic thing that's ever happened to you.
Love is.... letting someone hold a gun to your heart.... praying to god they don't shoot....