Sick Love

About the past init.

You hand me the moon, my dear,

Beautiful, yes, but terribly heavy.

Illuminating, tiring, enchanting, wearing, beautiful. A burden.

The calm darkness is lost to this blinding light.

 

I did not love you. Yet you were my everything,

My supernatural Godless force for life,

Manipulated and crushed every blissful second of your company,

Each tiny indication of your care lifting me to new heights,

Like a drug I would happily let destroy me.

 

Agonising cold turkey,

We've purged ourselves of each other's euphoric toxicity.

I miss being interesting. I hated who I was to you, and looking back, I hate you too.

Years of this craved pain, sweet promises of years to come,

Torturing each other with each other's sick obsession.

Reviews

[Michelle N. H.]

This is perfect. I really just wanted you to know someone thought that about something you'd created.

[Belle Bamford]

Thank you very much x

[L.]

Your vocabulary is beautiful, I'd love to see more of your work!

[Belle Bamford]

Aw thank you :)