it's the letting go, the realization that you're
not all right
but it's okay, and you
are ready to go on,
bare body in the
moonlight again, half shadow and half
blazing with shimmery light
as you
clutch your wounded heart with the
transparent, fragile beauty you do not see
in yourself and you wait to love again
while you swear off the whole mess entirely
but you can't escape love, it snatches
and tears at your heart, begging a night's
lodging, and you know better,
but you always let love in.
despite the struggle,
the constant reality of pain versus the fairy tales
the cutting of her abandonment, the sting
of his lies when you discover the truth.
love is a game, a battleground, a muddy
field slick with rain and gore
as you sink neck deep into the refuse
you weep and realize that yet, if not
for this feeling, the despair and
tumultuous passion, you would
never be able to feel truly alive.
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