Broken Tears

Love. it is a word of which I shan't speak any longer.

Forsaken in its birthright it is a word of which is murmerred against soft flesh, causing more harm than desire.

A simple touch, and all hope is set aflame, a fierce inferno of mistrust and passion combined as one.

No regrets can be allowed in this sinister game,

else one shall be consumed by compunction and shall wither,

as though winter has claimed the spring

An ice grasp about the heart,

withstanding the fire within,

contented to watch the internal suffering of the soul.

A single syllable word,

has the power to create chaos and immense joy which deteriorates with use.

It is death it the slowest,

yet sweetest form…

agonizingly putrid as it wraps you in its embrace,

suffocating the soul with its intoxicating poison,

seeping into your veins and claiming the heart