Is love buried underneath that slew of threats?
Does suspicion translate into tendency and intimacy?
Should I attribute you as a firm protector of me?
Are your fists substitute for a passionate kiss?
The fear of you, I had, should’ve given the answers that I sought,
but blindness took its toll; until I lay dying at your feet.
Young love is all that I wanted it to be,
but that so-called love you had; loved me too deeply.
As you hid me 6 feet below, where amative souls sleep.