Sometimes, I wish I've never known you;
where you've come from, where you've been.
I wish you were just a void,
with no knowledge to love,
and with no knowledge to hate.
But because of you,
I have a name to adore,
and a person to despise.
Because of you, there are places to which I want to return to,
and there are places to which I am reluctant to arrive.
Your words have always been writhing thorns,
on a beautiful wreath of roses, and I love them -
for what they are, for what they mean;
for how they make me look and feel,
but the knowledge of them hurts me.
The knowledge of them breaks me.
By the gods, I love you, but I hate you on me.
And when I look at you, I wish to kiss you from a distance.
When I look at you, I am torn - disembodied between
my love and the fractured memories.
When I look at you - you give me a name to
agonize over, when the days are empty,
and my heart seems full.
When I look at you, there are reasons why I hate to love you.
And god, do I miss you. When the words blend
into the grains of the wall,
and your face becomes the back of my eyelids,
I can't help but let my heart bleed dry.
God knows how I hate loving you.
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
Sometimes, I wish I've never known you;
where you've come from, where you've been.
I wish you were just a void,
with no knowledge to love,
and with no knowledge to hate.
But because of you,
I have a name to adore,
and a person to despise.
Because of you, there are places to which I want to return to,
and there are places to which I am reluctant to arrive.
Your words have always been writhing thorns,
on a beautiful wreath of roses, and I love them -
for what they are, for what they mean;
for how they make me look and feel,
but the knowledge of them hurts me.
The knowledge of them breaks me.
By the gods, I love you, but I hate you on me.
And when I look at you, I wish to kiss you from a distance.
When I look at you, I am torn - disembodied between
my love and the fractured memories.
When I look at you - you give me a name to
agonize over, when the days are empty,
and my heart seems full.
When I look at you, there are reasons why I hate to love you.
And god, do I miss you. When the words blend
into the grains of the wall,
and your face becomes the back of my eyelids,
I can't help but let my heart bleed dry.
God knows how I hate loving you.
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