and we can’t even fight properly.
have we lost that ability or did we never have it in the first place?
and our mean words are pebbles, small, insignificant; each hit a vague pain somewhere in the nether regions of the heart, but tell me, is our love not strong enough for boulders to be flying, for pain to be immense, almost insufferable?
I want to
lie down somewhere and suffer for love until
it nearly kills me
i want it to take the whole of me. i want to have no mercy and recieve no mercy back.
and every time we fight, sparks fly but the fire never ignites.
and every time we fight, there is no anger, just sadness, scaring us into oblivion with the thoughts of losing each other. the notion of how life would be if we were apart, different people loving us, needing us, prepared to die for us; breaking hearts.
yesterday everyone found out about us.
i didn’t like that and we fought, fear eveloping us like misty green haze of jealousy.
and there was no anger, only wronged love.