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"If that isn't love
The ocean is dry
There's no star in the sky
And the sparrow can't fly
If that isn't love
Then heaven's a myth
There's no feeling like this
If that isn't love"
-Dottie Rambo


How can this screeching ache persist deep in my bowels? Like he's continuing to rip my heart  to shreds everyday. The promises we whispered  were sacred vows given on holy ground. 
The words of which were woven into a shroud binding our two flesh bodies into one. He broke free somehow, but never freed me.
 I'm pulled along in his wake, screaming. He never looks back to watch the skin flayed from my bones as he drags me on and on and on.
 I relive the memories of our first kiss, the absolute shock of it and our bodies catching fire. That look in his eyes that could never lie. He loved me. I know he did! Didn't he? 

     If that wasn't love looking at me 
then I've never seen the moon at night, 
nor watched the rain pour down from the sky.
 If that wasn't love,
 I've never heard  bird song in spring 
nor smelled the savory scent of roses.
 If that wasn't love then I know nothing.
 It's all a fantasy, 
a nightmare, 
a Lunatic dream. 

     I need to hate him, I need to not care. Time is supposed to heal me but each day the wounds only fester, my nails ripped and broken from trying to stop him pulling me along forever.
 I look through blurry eyes at the furrows disappearing over the horizon, my mouth full of dust and ashes. 
This pain will last forever, 
I'll never be free.
 I'll never stop loving him
 though he stopped loving me.

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