Atrophied Love
Our Love, Eternally Bound
Our love is embodied in words,
clinging to our lips, yet fated to never touch the real,
forever exiled from taking form.
We whisper "I love you" day and night,
but our icy, bitter actions freeze the love onto paper,
as if affection were ink and not flesh.
They say love is worth more than pain,
but some prefer pain over love,
and our love, spoken to exhaustion,
drifts off to sleep on the precipice,
where it falls in love with its own failure.
Laughter and words of love are lavishly spent,
promises echo, vows of longing never felt
drip from lips like sweet bitterness,
stumbling between lies and half-truths.
Today, maybe tomorrow, or perhaps one day,
We walk together, yearning, to the gallows.
With words of pure love, I tell you:
my beloved loves me so much
that he loves my pain more than my love.
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