Love kills us all wether we are wound in a rose or petals falling fast.

Misery loves companion, but does companion love misery?

Now I know I can’t ever have you.
You are the glimpse of heaven that falls like snow and melts in the warmth of my hands.
I can’t keep you.

The loss of another remains always as the loss of a part of yourself.

Fear bleeds like open wounds when immersed.

Love is the sickness spreading within my mind.

To see you is like trying to see inside a wound that wont ever close up.

Pulling at the strings that control you wont get you any farther then biting the hand that feeds.

Pain is another way to mask love
Love is your only fear

I don't bite the hand that feeds.
I push it away.