It is supposed to hurt?
When you give up is your heart supposed to disintegrate...?
Do you just let it happen?
What if I told you I didn't care and that your emotions don't matter? What if I told you that you were more beautiful than the Eiffel tower, would it make a difference then?
If you sink or float I mean... would the why and when change? Would the rules start making sense?
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day...? Nay, say naught for my heart shall be dissolved like the doused sun..." but comfort me so I won't run...
Give it a shot, give it a go, give me a chance to explain love's woes... a chance to go back and exchange and maybe a chance to not. GIVE ME HOPE.
She doesn't exist. She's like the ply wood beaten in the rain for a week and then asked why she never held. She's like the dry tears on my pillow I wish had never fell...
She is no more but she lives still, enchantress, mother, bride, death will. She continues to grow like weeds in our hearts that take over the garden at midday. Yet she says for me all the things I'd hoped to never say.
Hope then runs away, and leaves me unaware. Battered and bruised honed in the fires of cruel men. HOPE DESCENDS US ALL TO HELL. Damns us all one by one, holding our hands to light the eternity candle. And eternity of lost hope...
And eternity of doubt and pain and growing weeds again....until you give up.
YOU ARE READING
little thoughts
PoetrySweet whisperings. If only the world was round and the things we believed in right. If only the dark didn't melt away as madness becomes light, as sense becomes the past and knowledge becomes history. If only this life wasn't a huge fucked up myst...
