in this final entry of dellevarnu's compilations, i took a bold risk and wrote dark feeling into poetry—again? (when will i stop?)
this explores the detriment of the mind when the only love exposed, received and allowed to self is dark. and love, sometimes, burns bridges, shatters hearts and milks out all that is holy. sometimes, love is dark, be it the love we give ourselves, we give others, or the love we choose to receive.
it shouldn't have to be.
this is okay-ish poetry, and that's alright, because it's seven sins.
