It has been a long time since you've been the center of my pondering, a long time since you have driven my pen. How often I forget to extol the woman who taught me how to love; it's time to give credit where credit is due. You bring a welcome sadness to my life, a different breed of sadness that imitates joy. You are the sinking in my chest that dubs me a living creature, the sugary stab that reminds me I am real. Hurting you was the eighth sin, and I don't believe I have truly corrected my karma just yet I am in debt to true love for chasing happiness elsewhere, and I received my hell well as I molded to the change.
Love is heavier than sadness, more focused than addiction, yet I tossed it around like a crippled plaything. This is a power I am not proud of, though it is admired by many
to gain leverage over love is to deny life's most static rules, but just as well refuse its most prolific gifts. It doesn't take long to realize my error in rejecting you, for I contradict myself more with every step. There are hells fitted for different crimes, and mine is made for the maltreatment of you
your tears are rife but I have not eluded judgment, rest assured that the fugitive has been detained. Your fall from my grace was worth a thousand broken hearts, and I owe their redemption like I owe a thousand souls.
It is too late for amendments, the venom has been injected
the jury finds me ungrateful and the night finds me alone. We are now children of separate worlds, guided by different songs and surrounded by different faces. Where is my sad little girl, with tears for me to drink and a chin for me to raise, who keeps the ice around my heart in serous form? She is in a world bound to bury me forgotten, where many a rose waits to outlive the old. So while you reinvent yourself in another man's arms, may you catch wind of this one final truth; you do more than make me whole
you have the power to make me human.