Love*  is
kissing her tender lips
like they're made from the gods,
divine, palatable yet frigid and cold
Love  is
ripping her chest apart
only to find a labyrinth that led to home
─but never the place to call your own
Love  is
leaving a note on her coffee table
saying *I  love  you
but
I  told  you  so
Love  is
­turning her into a beautiful poetry
without crushing her soul,
without tormenting her ego

I've been writing our initials
on every coin i throw into the wishing well
I've been painting your hazel eyes
on every sheet of gold and linen
I've been driving at 1am
on the same road we first met
I've been tracing the burnt marks
you left on my chest
I've been biting my lips
with the hope of tasting you again


You  are  a  (hard)  bad  habit  to  *break­

She was an unlit candle
in the middle of a forest fire
She stood motionless,
deafened with silence
With her jaws locked and fists clenched,
She heard herself whisper to nothingness,
cursed names with empty threats
As anger and sorrow and disbelief consumed her
She quavered with her knees on the ground
Nobody  can  save  her
She was helpless
She was renounced

Does my pride make you falter?
Or does my veracity intimidate the walls you built?
Fear me not
I tell you
I am fragile