Love is looking down the barrel of a loaded gun and screaming "shoot!"
Love is glacier-carved paths of patience dragging through your insides
Love is over-full bathtubs, warm water havens from chilling outside air
Love is crackling halves falling, lightning-stricken, away from mighty trees
But I'm tired of love, talking about it, hearing about it, finding it frequent in my thoughts
I want to drill love shut into a wooden box and toss it deep into a hole I dug
out of fresh black earth. I want to bury it with my dreams
endless bright trajectories, full of learning and adventures
But I want love to be buried so deep that it suffocates and decomposes
How can something so tragic and fragmented be beautiful? And please tell me
How something so breathtaking can be so violent and terrifying?
They tell me it's because I don't know, to "just wait. you'll see.." But f*ck that!
I don't want to know, and I hate myself for wanting to know so desperately
People can keep their loaded shotguns and dying, charred tree trunks
People can keep their chilling air and warm tubs of running water
Because alone is a pain I can trust, it's a pain that understands me with
fewer tangles and chains, more familiar aches, and a hunger I am learning to deny
I suppose this is a poem about commitment issues, but welcome to the mess
I'm done apologizing for my romance gag reflex
Because I'm hurting..
And I've thrown myself from every cliff I could find
Now I'm wondering why all my bones are broken
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