How do I rid this hate and feel the same love again?
How to water the rage in me to let it grow into a rose that lights my plains?
It’s stupid, but being with you made me feel like it was you I cried for the day I was born.
Understand this: not all is fair in love and war if it’s a battlefield with just you armed and me not.
The same arms that stretched out to embrace my suffering quickly fisted and bruised me, even if unphysical.
How do I relive the moments when people looked up at us in our downs? When the deaf signed, “It must be the definition of love” and it hit aloud?
Which chest do I run to now that can lift all my sorrows?
The pictures we now paint is of love, but its individuals sworn into war.
Weeks now, I weaken, hoping to miscarry this altercation I failed to abort.
What happened to us? To our harmonies in bluebirds that we toasted in expensive glasses.
As love fades, we face flashes of everything we lost.
Now, how is it fair in love and war, when all we sacrificed for is titled as “What we have lost”.
It lingers on billboards, in dreams, in our bodies we inked promises on… It’s now gone. All died with the dreams of me sifting through the hopes to love you once more.