Sometimes I crave it,
The darkness that fills the soul of man.
Sometimes I wish,
That misery and hate still tortured me.
Sometimes I wonder If this love is real.
For all that we have been through,
The struggle, the stabbing of words,
Into wounds still tender,
Sometimes I cant help but think,
Maybe we were better alone.
My tongue lashing you with cruel words,
Words that cut deep.
Past mistakes played out for revenge.
My own private showing,
For the horrors of your life.
Anger cuts deep.
Makes me remember my place.
Sometimes I am thankful,
For the misplaced jealousy used as an excuse,
To lust after others.
I know you watch, with eyes of sadness,
A mind full of doubt.
Who knows where this will take us,
Our dreams torn to shreds,
Like the very paper they were written on.
The pain of truth, too much to bare,
Our hearts forever spoilt.
Sometimes it seems like love,
Is not worth the risk.
