Nov 27
to love is to suffer
to suffer is to love
so when you reach your hand down my throat
and rip my heart from my chest,
when you curl your fingers into fists and
beat them against my face,
when you smile tauntingly and tease and mock and humiliate and manipulate me,
when you curl your fingers against the stitches that i restitch
every morning, every afternoon, every night,
and yank as hard as you can until the blood flows like red peonies against my skin
to love is to suffer
to suffer is to love
i don't mind.
it's okay.
i don't mind.
i don't.
because i love you.
to love is to love
to suffer is to suffer
or was it something else?
because i can't tell anymore
to suffer is to love
so when you reach your hand down my throat
and rip my heart from my chest,
when you curl your fingers into fists and
beat them against my face,
when you smile tauntingly and tease and mock and humiliate and manipulate me,
when you curl your fingers against the stitches that i restitch
every morning, every afternoon, every night,
and yank as hard as you can until the blood flows like red peonies against my skin
to love is to suffer
to suffer is to love
i don't mind.
it's okay.
i don't mind.
i don't.
because i love you.
to love is to love
to suffer is to suffer
or was it something else?
because i can't tell anymore
god, is it so wrong to want something
that i know is wrong?
it's not going to work like that, i know,
but still, my poor heart wants to challenge fate
and end up in your arms.
that i know is wrong?
it's not going to work like that, i know,
but still, my poor heart wants to challenge fate
and end up in your arms.
