Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Lets talk about Love.

Love is a serial killer. It kills lover after lover with knives in the heart and guns to the head. Love is a sociopath. It charms you with love- songs and your favorite chocolate but only to get your guard down and attack you. Love is a thief. It steals your ribs made of diamonds and leaves you broke. Love will beat you in the dirty corners of your street on your way home and leaves you with a black eye and a love poem. Love is a stalker. It stalks you in the supermarket or at a party but you rather call that dejavu. Love is bloody. You will wake up from your nightmares in a bath of blood and you will scream for help but it is just too late. Love kidnaps your mind and locks it in a basement where is no light and the dark thoughts will be all you know. It’s called the Stockholm syndrome. Love is a burglar. Breaking inside your body and steals every golden dust you are made of and then bury you in the middle of nowhere.

And love is a psychopath. And we all are victims.
We almost dated is such a sad relationship to have with someone. Almost is such a weird title to own.
As if you almost could have tasted his lips and you are almost pretty sure they taste like pink roses.
And he almost loved you back and was ready to water your dry ribs and plant flowers in between your lungs.
Almost has become a habit of me. I never really possessed something entirely. and so when I tell you that I am hungru and that i need more than a taste...you have to understand that I have been starving for eras.
Almost is all I know and I wish it wasn't like this. I want possession and cold pure nights of nothing but the drunken taste of love in my mouth, in my throat, in my veins, in my brain, and in my blood.
I almost had you. Almost.


- N xx

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