Body Bags
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"Pleasure turns to the pain, Of the lessons learned from the strain, Of the questions burned in my brain, About whether to love is humane In its touch. These thoughts are like salmon, Swimming upstream In the tears of your deceit, Fighting the current hurt, That kills more than is created, By the chaos of our intertwined emotions: Chaotic because the anchor Of Eros' arrow has been plucked from the vessel Of my undying infatuation. Separation not as simple as the distance between us, My mind no longer possessed By the demons That had been the overseers Of my enslavement to your lies. The seeds of these lies, Rooted so deeply They have cracked the foundation Of what we once shared, Allowing the faith in us I had sealed inside To gush out like a river, Ripping the image of our future together From my thoughts As violently and as brutally As if it were a child being taken From his mother's arms. I'm left surrounded in darkness, But I refuse to be swallowed by it, My loneliness like the night air. Invisible to the eye, oblivious to the touch, In its cold uncomfortableness. Yet if I could do it all over again, I'd do it in the same skin I'm in. To lay down and let love die, Just stay down and let love lie: No, no, not I. I'll stay 'round and let love fly, Even though I have seen its darkest form, deceit. Nothing else could taste this warm Or feel this sweet." -ATL
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