Buscador

viernes, 18 de septiembre de 2015

You wanted love to be

Me

You wanted love to be a reward
but love was an illness: irrational and infectious
You wanted love to be a castle to hold me prisoner
but love was a field of dead leaves and corpses.
You wanted love to be a warm chamber, equipped with a comfortable bed,
but love is a battlefield where one drinks blood in order to survive;
you see, there is nothing decent about love.
You wanted me to be a polished trophy, an incandescent light
but I was madly hopeless, a cemetery of broken dolls.
You thought that grief was made of tears,
but you soon discovered it’s made of revenge
for we always kill what we have loved the most.
You wanted love to be compassion
but compassion is burdensome and sad.
You wanted to enslave me,
As I lost my eyes and became invisible
as you gave, expecting something back,
but love is freedom,
like showering under the moon while dancing,
like learning to love a new country,
like forgiving,
Like the sound of a broken violin or a dusty piano
Like losing your hearing and yet continuing playing.




CR- VocalesV


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