I love and hate you all in one instant.
Loving you is both a blessing and a curs it is peace it is heaven and a blessing of all that is good. But it is also a curse on my soul an ever lasting burn on my shattered heart. It is pain, suffering and dementia it is hate sorrow and anger the inferno that is love both the passion and the hate. The pain and the sorrow. It is a land of good a peaceful thought a place of safety and infatuation.
But it is also a desalinate waste land. It envelops me in a toxic hoard of hatred .
Love is the demon that tears me inside out. The angle that brings me back to life.
Love is life and it is death .
It kills me tortures my every thought and action.
But love is also a healing power that repairs the fracture in my heart filling me with joy and life.
Love is a knife that stabs into my soul and twist until the handle breaks off and no hope of redrawing the blade is never known.
Love is the hands of a torture this wourld should not know.
It heals my soul and tears it out leaving behind only the time to heal.
Love is( forgive me for the pun) like a rose.
Beautiful, fragile in its own way. But no matter how beautiful It my be it can always draw blood and cause pain that can envelop the unsuspecting. Love is a precious blessing a gift if you would . It is a intoxicating substance that of a powerful drug you have not realized you have done a essence of being. But if you come to a bend in this road of loves passion and well being you come to a dangerous place were love is your own living hell. a slow killing poison that racks your body with a pain that almost nothing legal can repress.
Love makes the possessor twitch, bleed, scream, and suffer.
Broadens the ensnared with a new vison of life and happiness.
Love builds you to your highest then laughs in you face when it all comes crashing down.
Turning your life to a deathly plage.
Breaking , biting, slashing, burning, hacking you from the inside out letting you guts spill into your open hands.
Love is a rose beautiful and dangers in one unbelievable instant. Love is death love is life.
Love heals the wounds of a broken heart and tears them back open all with in the blink of an eye. tearing use apart at the seams of our sanity. Tormenting our wounded hearts with the soft teasing caress of the fingers of passion.
Then all at once tearing it out trough our flared nostrils in the depths of a blind haltered.
The lovers in this world all must soon realize, love is a flower beautiful buy nature.
But flowers have thorns and flowers may kill.
love poem I wrote in 9th grade and have just been revising for the past cople of years.