love is like..
too many different types.
too many different lefts.
too many different rights..
-
ive spent more time with my face stained on pillows and
my eyes in holes dug deep.
ive had connections with perceptions of who they claim to be devil,
devious ties to dangerous disguised as razors and knives
holding my wrists at gun point;
at some point ive died like a thousand times,
is this a sign?