Love is like water.
It has no colour, no smell, no taste.
It is neutral in everything.
There is no joy in love, nor any sorrow.
The only thing we gain from love itself
Is the relief, like drinking a cool glass of water
On a hot, relentless day, or for some,
A desperate need for quenching the thirst
Of one who was dying of dehydration.
Besides that, all else is down to the person you love;
What you love about them is what turns the water blue, red,
Or the colour of galaxies.

we are not
who we are
at our best
anymore
than we are
the sum
of our worst
aspects.
we are
what we pretend to be:
misanthropes
possessed of empathy.
walking paradoxes.
amalgamations.
spectrums
in multicolor.

and these waves
             of longing
                  are burning me
              into stumbled
           desert trances
  as I crawl, parched
upon
        earth that
             sears and spears
                 my limbs
                        my inner organs,
                             once wet              
                 with the fire
             of my blood
now only
ashen embers
         the very salt
               of the sum of
              my wounds
lacerated open -
   barely held by
        a secret tourniquet
            wrapped tight, ******* me  
      in reverse tempest
and I clamor within my being
move in jolts,
like a voodoo dance
             zombie girl
stuck in the hell
of no-woman's land
a landscape of spires  
piercing me hot
making the sharpened path
dangerous for strangers
As for me,
I can only succumb to
their scalding roast
if I want to somehow
get out alive,
my skin charred
from that branding of insults
my heart scarred
from countless lashes
that your serpent's tongue
has inflicted upon me
             This.
is not the pleasure
of being tethered
tender flesh teased
  until writhing
                   This.
          is not the grind
          of earthen fire
           and sky mixed
     with underwater lava,
swarming cloistered whispers
   into my brain temperatures
                This.
is not the conflagration of
love seeds developing
into a ripe field
of the succulence of lustfruit
            This.  
        Is just an
        attempt
   to wear down
the goddess in me
     And to that
          I say
          No.

I turn the other cheek
to your barbed wire lies.
In the frequencies of the
next universe over,
an echo bursts into flames
rapidly oxidizing,
licking into
           nourishment
the rebirth
   of my
own
    divinity

You're a wolf in sheep's clothing
That I saw break itself apart just so it could join the flock.
You lived with the sheep long enough that your stench faded,
Inhaled their lifestyle until it became yours.
Then the real wolves came, wearing their own skin,
Entered the flock and began to feast upon the sheep.
You sat, injured and deformed, wearing fluffy, white wool
Over your grey fur.
They came for you, and you pounced.
Your self-blunted teeth split their skulls open,
And your claws tore flesh like the sheep tore blades of grass.
They came for you, but now they are yours.
You ate the wolves' flesh and licked clean their blood;
Your sheep's clothing stained red with wolf.