Indecent Inflictions

Indecent Inflictions Have I woken up in a place I’ve never known? Commonality is a depth I seem unable to fathom. Do I give of what I’m asked; but what’s mine is also your’s? I seem to have wrongly assumed I am. The assassin of love is not failure in itself; The killer is degrees. Degrees that inflict and destroy; and accompanied always--- By those thoughtless justifications. People don’t really drown in their own tears; And if they fall to their knees they still breathe. Though its mending may take many years; Nobody really dies from a broken heart; Since she’s been gone I feel only with my heart. This is it for now; but tomorrow is another day; And limb by limb my craft takes shape. For from this desolate island of loneliness I will escape.