Cutting Wounds

This was a poem I wrote awhile back about the guy I went to prom with.

Like fire, to touch you will burn me

and to be mesmerized by your beauty

will only serve to my desire of loving you.

I shouldn't.

I come back and leave...knowing I'm cutting

deeper into an open wound of

feelings I still hold for you.

I look upon your body and see no

scars.

Or maybe makeup does a hell of

wonders for you.

I'm willing to bear my feelings out for

you to see, yet you constantly close

your eyes as if my wounds

disgust you

and it's not enough.

Like a flower, my decisions are taken into consideration one by one.

I love you.

You hurt me.

I love you.

You hurt me.

I love you yet you hurt me.

I shouldn't.

Like an addict, I endorse my heart

with old affection that pains me and

creates a high that I continue to go

back to.

The laughs we shares has diminished.

We together, are beautiful.

But to love you is cutting wounds.

Author's Note

Feel free to comment or critique.