Is it love?
This vague imitation of life
This thing we pretend to know
To do
To be
The reason we ****** our hands and knees
This thirst and exhilaration
What are we so desperate for?
What is this hunger stabbing in our belly?
In our guts?
In our bone and marrow?
What drives our instinct of survival?
How can we say we care about tomorrow
While ******* away today?
******* away our loneliness
Instead of facing who we are
In mirrors built for one
Bullets penetrating knife scars
Both in our backs and
In our chests
Cold steel and hot lead
Love triangle forever wed
Bleeding heart of hope
Dying by the rope
Noose tied
Dead tree
Cold hands
Stroking
The noise of lust
Pitter patter dead feet
Ghost in the hall
Wearing no reflection at all
Love in fake *******
Wilted by the dozen
Heart shaped box
Chocolate covered lies
Bitter lullabies
Rose colored lips
Breathing false sentiment
Two dimes for a quarter
To buy back lost alibis
Imitating life
What's the purpose
Without love?