What is love when the color fades
When the stars are unaligned?
What is love when the rules have changed
And your heart's no longer mine?
What is love when the kiss is dead
When the lies are coming clean?
What is love when I cry instead
Of my soul creating dreams?
What is love when the dark has grown
When the air is bitter frost?
What is love when my faith is cold
And the hope we had is lost?
What is love when the candle's lit
When the whispers are so close?
What is love when I can't forget
That you still haunt me the most?
Love is the path I chose to take,
Just a war I chose to fight.
Love is the mess I chose to make,
And this cancer will survive.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Confusion
PoesíaDiana Miller is schizophrenic...or at least she thinks so. She has never been clinically diagnosed because her father believes that mental illness is demon possession, and she knows he would never take her to a psychiatrist. To cope with her inner c...
