Die in the arms of love tonight,
in the one fantasy that once urged me to let go.
Think not of the everlasting affection I have for you,
nor of the daily dose of apathy you deniably take.
Love cannot wait for us if these hearts slowly break,
break into a thousand pieces of irreversible pain.
It is not the ties that bind that fixed us,
or the million stars that watched you sleep at night
that gave me freedom; love let me hold on
to the bitter times I once treasured
because it was the only sanctuary I had with you.
The only time I spent with you, to love you enough,
it broke my heart. It was through searing pain
I found a peace of mind--a peace of mind that only came
when I thought of you. Perhaps this is love:
knowing you can live through the agony
of losing the one thing that kept you alive,
but still knowing - somehow, somewhere -
you're probably still alive.
I wouldn't give it back. I wouldn't hunger
for something that never existed.
Love, let me not hunger for something
that could never relinquish affection;
that, even through the pangs of affliction,
could never utter a single noun of devotion
through a dying gasp.
I would not favor. This moment can last eternally,
as long as it's with you; until then, love,
let me not hunger... let me not see the eyes
that burn me, or feel the hands that hurt me,
as long as this should never end.
As long as this is the only time
I could ever spend with you,
the only time I could ever
count my blessings, or the only time
I could ever truly say...
Tonight, I died in the arms of love,
I truly and utterly was loved myself.