Love is an illness for which we have no cure
We watch time compound it
We allow new lovers to bury it
But how do you forget how it felt to set your heart on fire with love's first kiss?
And how do you forget the inferno blazing in your innards when you lost everything?

There is this curious naïveté that falling in love anew will be your salvation
But how do you ever tread as carelessly ever again?
How do you venture into brambles unknown without apprehensive prudence infecting your every step?

There is no erasing what your hands and words have wrought
And there is no relief from any song daring to utter "love"

Love is your cross to bear
Your burden to carry
Your reminder that somewhere is a human being who means absolutely everything
Whose happiness is more important than yours
Who only deserves the best