What nobody told me about love is that it can be poison in disguise as a flower. That it can look so beautiful while slowly strangling the life from you. That things can seem so perfect and yet you can be unhappy. That sometimes in love things turn to dust. Things rust. It's just a bust. Nothing's right and yet you keep trying. After all it's just a flower. Beautiful and appealing. You get high on the fumes of it. Keep breathing it in even as it sucks the oxygen from your lungs. You need it. You're addicted and can't see that the flower is the problem. You cut out what you perceive as weeds because they feed you truth. A painful breath that conflicts your tainted air. You struggle to build to breathe to grow. You'll never really know just how much you need breathe until the flowers ivy has crawled over your bridges and choked them off, poisoned and tainted it. Rotted the wood. That even though you love someone with a pure heart and mind that it doesn't mean they feel the same. That you aren't just a tool in their poison garden. And that's what nobody told me about love.
YOU ARE READING
What Nobody Told Me About Love.
PoesíaFinished, completed poetry book. Wrote this in an hour so it's probably not the greatest but I put my heart and thoughts into it.
