my kind of love
You leave my heart with an agonizing ache,
a rot that hollows me, worn and thin;
yet every vow to leave, I break,
because I crave the anguish you drown me in.
You tear me down to splinters, nerve by nerve,
and leave me trembling where the wreckage lies;
yet still I reach for every wound you serve,
as if your torment were love in disguise.
I drink your cruelty like a sacred wine,
and call it love because I need it so;
each wound becomes another fragile sign
that I am yours and cannot let you go.
The wolves would kill me quickly and be done,
but you return and teach me how to stay;
I learn to chase the loaded gun,
and kiss the hand that pushes me away.
I know the wounds will never close,
that loving you will always leave its mark;
but I would rather live inside your storm
than spend my life safely in the dark.
In your arms I choose to stay afraid,
because I believe your heart hides love within;
pain becomes a small thing when it's weighed
against the chance that you might choose me again.
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