I too sat down, laying the spear between us, and tried to explain how I’ve

In secret ways

Mysterious pages of the soul

Unread, ripped out, 

and floating on a sea of tears

I wait in the shadow for love to sneak out

Revealing it’s shifty eyes, 

A penchant for slippery slopes 

Dreamers face first in the snow

It’s colder then before I knew a blanket

Capacity for love is a mother’s might 

A fathers choice

A kittens paw

my cruel, unfaltering master.

A candy grave for lollipops left half unsucked on the side walk.

Sun rays that break and enter a Pharohs crypt 2 millions years after she last saw a grape.

Love is a scratch on the surface of this vintage mirror, perfection till it settled on my chest of drawers. 

A vinegar band aid. 

A garden of dying roses.

A rock in gods boot he’s too fat to remove after all these years of Mrs Clause’s baking. 

Love is.

A poison that I slowly sip on, secretly so the family can’t smell it on my breath. 

A closet drunk. 

Addicted to the heartbreak and the pipeline its building through the channels of my heart for overseas exports.

Rates have skyrocketed on round trip tickets to love, your baggage is free but there’s a small fee if you want fresh air for the duration of your flight. 

”Reality” is just a word and you shouldn’t use it without quotation marks around it anyway.” ~ Joseph Campbell

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