I like to write about unrequited love.
The kind that escapes us,
destroys us.
The love we don't think we deserve.
The fulfillment we constantly search for
but never find
because we were too late
or not enough.
The things that ache in your bones
and echo your sorrows into your core
threading into your DNA
like it's belonged there all along.
You can't root it out.
You can't find the source.
Lo and behold
it was that poem that made you want to die
but had you running back for more
at the same time