I've never written a love poem before.
I've never written a love poem before,
But I can't continue to write the horror I have done anymore.
Writing my darkness has become so much more of a chore
Than just giving up and loving you and yours.
No, I've never written a love poem before but I can try,
Why deny my smile as I write this time,
Goodbye negativity growing in my minds-eye,
That suffocated vine, pulverised till it died,
Leaving only echoes of cries that had become rotten from the inside,
Now I'm free to fly.
Before you, life felt like a swarm of maggots,
Magnetised baggage eating me alive in the havoc.
You quickly became my art form,
My plastic covering against some electrical storm.
Your skin went finger-painting over mine,
Consigned to me for redesign.
I wouldn't change anything.
But your depression stands in front of you, tall as glass,
A translucent task, begging not to be picked last.
Perceptions of perfection become lost in the disconnection,
Forgetting that I swore to be your protection,
Your infection is inside you, much as I create interception,
You're hurting yourself and planting seeds of misdirection, disaffection.
I wish I could take your pain away,
Bring you back from whatever led you astray,
Wrap you up in my love,
Lift you high and above,
Kiss you with the truth,
Love you until it hurts like an open wound.