I am certain she does not love me
the way that I love her
so full,
so poetically passionately,
so self-destructively,
so lovely,
In all her darkness.
A black sun that burns brighter
than any celestial body;
I would let myself burn
to touch it,
to see it I would let
myself go blind.
I hope she does not mind
that I love her so deeply.
I give it freely,
not expecting anything
explicit in return.
Hoping that she
will always be merely
one poem or message
away from me.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
I am certain she does not love me
the way that I love her
so full,
so poetically passionately,
so self-destructively,
so lovely,
In all her darkness.
A black sun that burns brighter
than any celestial body;
I would let myself burn
to touch it,
to see it I would let
myself go blind.
I hope she does not mind
that I love her so deeply.
I give it freely,
not expecting anything
explicit in return.
Hoping that she
will always be merely
one poem or message
away from me.
