there is only one kind of love that I know
it hangs over my head silent and still
weaving around tufts of hair and
under my fingernails
there is only one kind of love that I know
it can be violent and cruel
always leaving a sweet taste in my mouth
and blackens my teeth
there is only one kind of love that I know
it pools in tears of anger instead of sadness
it softens rough edges making it
a bit harder to see
there is only one kind of love that I know
it will only be for the self and dwells within
for which it will never appear on
the surface on my skin in
red splotched lines
there is only one kind of love that I know
it has engraved words unspoken into flesh
burning into languages that never existed
the kind of love that I know is beautiful
but only in a camera lens and not in the
reflection of murky water
there is no trust between myself and these walls
it is distorted
running thin
how I wish this love would only last.