Love is Dead
Did it ever exist?
Or is it an abstract Concept
Invented as an excuse for the weak-minded?
Love is a Poison
It spreads slowly through the body
So slowly you can barely feel it creeping along inside
Until your organs fail and you are No More
I won't be a sob story of unrequited Love
I won't allow this Poison to overtake my system; I'll suck it out before it can spread
I won't use this Concept as an excuse for the dried tears on my bedspread
Or the blades rusted through
Or the ink-stained pages overflowing with my darkest thoughts
Love is Dead Inside
At least we have one thing in common
YOU ARE READING
There Is A Hell.
Poetry(No, this has nothing to do with Bring Me The Horizon) This is not a story. This is a collection of poems and thoughts (some by me, and some gathered by various sources) about depression, sadness, etc. Warning: contains mentions of self-harm, sui...
