Love is a Drug

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Sad poems

I drove myself to this.

My idiot heart betrayed me.

I'm in love.

I should have seen it coming.

But love is blind.

It's also a vicious bastard.

Cupid hit me with a poisoned arrow,

Burrowing it's way into my soul

He laughs as I fight to save my friendship,

He triumphs as my heart breaks.

Cupid is not an angel, a cherub or seraph,

He's a demon, a sadistic master of cruel emotion

Love is the drug he hooks us on,

Promising highs beyond the heavens,

Delivering lows not even Hell could create.

Love sings through my blood,

Pounds in my skull,

My very fingers itch to touch that face, that body.

Since they cannot, they attack me, cut after cut,

And my soul endures, mourning what never was.

I cut my own throat last night.

Just to see what it was like.

Just to think of something else

There it was, that delicious burn,

And I hadn't even drawn blood yet.

The infection of passion taking over,

I dragged the knife along my flesh,

Not cutting the skin, just grazing it.

And then dug the point in

And flicked my wrist.

A tiny scratch, barely visible.

I wanted more.

So much better than the arm,

The blood, poisoned, pounding beneath the skin,

Warming the tip, readying it.

The adrenaline burns through my veins

Before I even begin.

Before the mirror, carefully now...

Seeing her face, I hesitate.

I don't want to go too far.

Without even drawing blood

It was more intense than anything before.

To satisfy myself, light cuts along the forearm.

But not the back like usual, this time the wrist,

The places where the veins show through,

Where the skin hurts more easily.

The word STOP carved as a warning;

Never go too far.

The neck will be special,

For when the fire in my soul can only be fought by the burning of my skin.

It's funny how it never hurts, only burns.

I wonder, if I cut deeply,

Let the blood flow rather than seep,

Would it hurt then?

Or would there only be relief?

Freedom, finally, from the torments of this life.

But for now, my throat is my treat,

My last resort to appease the Demon when it's control is total.

Cupid is gone, he wants me to follow,

I will, again and again.

I'm hooked, you see.

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Queen Serenity's picture

oh FFS... u know what ima do next time i come round and see you dont you?! jesus fucking christ Ruth... we promised...