There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk

Trying to find rare people in this world's generation is like trying to find a book in a library of blank pages

I guess I won that stupid fight of "I love you more."

I thought you were my medicine but too much medicine can make you even more sick so I changed and said you were my bandage but bandages can be wrapped too tightly and cause further damage to the simplest of wounds. I wish I could come to my senses and admit that you are neither my medicine nor my bandage; you are my sickness and you are the slash across my ******* wrist that is leaking all of this blood and leaving me helpless and dangerously close to death. You are the poison that burns my throat and is slowing killing me and I never wanted to admit to my drinking problem but I'm soon to be six feet under and I don't even know if I want to cry out for help or not anymore.

•

Your love is as sweet as the sugar,
                   That  I've been addictively indulging,
             For so many years.



        Every piece of you,
                      Is just the most gratifying that I have tasted!




                                   But when together we've been drowned with tribulations,





                                    You just gave up rapidly...






And dissolved!




                                   Integrating and going with the flow,

                         Of those torments and allurements,




Now where are you?




You are now a part of those afflictions that drowned you,


                                            I can still taste your sweetness,


                      Every time I sip through the trials,
                                That we've face,
          Resulting to weaken your knees,
    And been defeated,




       I was totally in great pain,


        To know that your love,

Can be just greatly surmounted,

                            By miseries in life,



But what can I do?

                                            I fight, you relinquish,


And until then,

You just become a memory,

Of an achingly baleful chronicles of my life.


                      © Earl Jane
                         ♥ E.J.C.S.