This love is death.
It is nothing more than
A crisis of the mind.
It's worse than ****.
Maybe I'll begin to feel
But I'm not sure I can.
I want to possess you
So your heart won't seal.
I plead with you now.
Love no one else
But I'm alone and no more
Can I think this is real -- how?
I plead with my heart:
Don't leave. No longer should
You wait, yet I've realized
I need you- my essential part.
Stay -- I need you through the end
Of it all. When there is nothing left,
I wish to leave this demolishing war
With one thing intact to send.
With all the science of this world,
In all the waters of the earth,
You'd think there'd be someone for me.
The right man would be unfurled.
But no. Instead, this love is death.
It is not real, it merely kills.
I read about love, and wonder this:
*How much can you destroy
with a mere breath?
Trying a new form of writing. I write a list of words that pop into my head, and then try to connect them all in poetic form. The words were these: love, death, nothing, more, crisis, ****, maybe, feel, not, possess, heart, plead, alone, think, how, with, leave, no, wait, yet, need, part, end, left, war, thing, science, waters, someone, right, instead, wonder, destroy.