Our painted past was once a blissful memory 

Now red hot bamboo splinters are stuck under my nails 

The heat is enough to keep me warm in the winter 

with a dull ache

 

I have been burned by the ice between us 

separating what we once knew 

a childhood 

or at least the remnants of it 

 

I had thought these bodies were not meant for poison 

In a world so full of it already 

I am often too quick to forgive 

I am often too naive 

Is this my downfall?

 

Indepence has always been my strong point 

here, on my own, 

I am the only one still standing 

whispering the words,

"but love"

.