This is something I totally forgot that I wrote :
The pain is rushing in
Taking over
It's gradual
I invented this pain
You are the cause; you are the cure
You are my dose
You are my overdose
You are the anaesthetic
This prescription is madness
You are my pain
You are my prize
This is madness
You are my madness
I love this madness
And moreso,
I hate this madness
Dearth of love
Wealth of love
Both you are
All in one
You plague me
You soothe me
You hurt me
You cover it up
You don't know it;
I'm your pupil
Getting a mastery
In this school of pain
I don't want to
It's not what I want
It's vague
It's crystal clear
It's a word
It's a thousand words
It's no word at all
Maybe this little girl
In this growing woman's body;
Has a utopian ideology of what love is
Or
Could love be par with pain?
Could one be overly ambitious?
Is it merely the absence of hatred?
Or a surge of blood through all the arteries
To all the vital organs at the speed of light?
Is it not a gazillion butterflies fluttering in my guts at the thought of you?
Is there a limit?
Is love not without bounds?
Does it not bring out your best?
Could there be more?
Or
Could this be bye?
Maybe....
02.20.2017
