I find love to be a painful concept. Each time i love, i risk opening a wound dug out by the animal in me. And in love's sick game i've grown tired of the fight, tired of the constant tug of war between the past, the present and the ****** heartache. After awhile, it all just seems easier to give up on, then to move forward. And i guess this is the feeling of losing yourself.

Love is a bleeding mess, red paint splattered on a ****** canvas. My heart decays like petals off a rose, wanting to be whole again. To be enslaved, I seek an act of closure because it's an ongoing issue. I get emotionally attached to someone then begin to push them away for unexplainable reasons.