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A poem I wrote when love went wrong... |
“My heart was taken by you... broken by you... and now it is in pieces because of you.” When I was in love with you, I was flying so high and felt like nothing could bring me down. I hadn’t felt this in so long, and it felt so gratifying. You gave me life, you gave me zest. I had never felt like this before. Other people have come and left, but you had the biggest impact. You were like a drug; I couldn’t get myself off of you. I loved the feeling of euphoria that came from using you. You gave me a high and an amazing rush. But with every high comes a crash that shakes you. A crash so hard, it nearly breaks you. But it’s too late, the addiction has set in and I just can’t help but give in. And I know, I know every time I take the drug, the crash will be worse, but you’re like a curse. You’ve got me under your spell without even knowing it. You’ve got me spinning around and around in circles without showing it. I struggle and try to cope as I abuse this drug. I scream and I shout but no one can hear me, because my dear, only you can free me. Tell me that you love me or just let me go. I don’t know whether to move on or to stay close. Please just say yes or say no, because right now you’ve got me hanging by a thread. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on before the eternal plunge. God, I know you know what you’ve done to me. I can tell when we talk, you’re thinking of me. I know you know, but you’re not 100% sure, and so you want me to admit it. But what good will it do? Please just quit it. What good will it do if in the end it’s still her and not me. I know you know, Love and that’s why you keep pushing me. I dared myself to take the adventure but I ended up with a bunch of splinters. My heart must be mended again, because it’s in smithers. But, I fear that this time the gash is too deep, that this time the wound will cause me to weep. So, please, Love, let me know. Should I stay or should I go? Is your love worth the wait or should I begin to mend? Will we ever turn the bend? Love is another form of suicide. You do whatever it takes to get love and keep love. Love is happiness, love is sorrow. Love is truce and love is a battle. All is fair in love and war. I guess the rule applies in the war for love. |