My love, is like that of
A plant and an oxygen molecule;
It enters my heart and
Nourishes my soul
So that
When it takes its leave
And I see it again,
In its changed form,
Its value is lost to me.
My love is like that of
Alcohol on a wound
Its intoxicating nature pains me
And yet cleanses me
So that when the pain disappears
And the alcohol evaporates
The wound feels prolonged pain
Til it heals,
Even then leaving a scar.
My love... is like that of
A fading memory
With passing time
And lack of remembrance,
When brought forth again,
It becomes a wistful memory.
My love is
Ever so fleeting,
Always misleading,
Waning,
Carefully reeling;
Withdrawing in confusion
Shutting doors,
It ignores
The warmth that surrounds it
For the fear of
Hurting again.
In its fear,
My heart begins to tear
My body loses its warmth
My words lose their strength
My mind loses it conviction
My soul...
Suffers, oppressed in its
Painted prison.