A love this powerful always comes with consequences,
For better or worse, they say,
But they haven’t met you, and me, and this damaged love we make,
They don’t know the kind of storm we bring,
The fire we create with our sparks and passion,
Enough to bring them to their knees, to stop their words in their tracks,
But lover, to you I have never lied, and I don’t know that that says about me,
When I used to be so good at spinning words and their alternate meanings.
Just know that the world can say what it must,
Nonetheless, here in our bed remains our truth.
But than again, words are only words, right? It only matters the actions we take,
And how we let the world define us, in this moment, here and now.
Darling, all the best love stories start out this way,
A little bit of shame, a lot of tension and a whole mess of feelings,
I believe that’s where the term love hurts is coined,
From the pain and trials of lovers before us,
Eager to pave the way so we won’t have to suffer the way they did,
(Yet isn’t funny how we seem to be doomed to repeat their mistakes?)
But that’s not how love works, I’m afraid, where each new embrace resets the old.
But don’t let this façade fool you,
I’ve crawled from this hole once before,
Barely able to speak of the things endured,
And its silence has never screamed at me quite this loud,
The scars still blaring red, as to remind me of the trials faced and underwent,
Why can’t I learn from these mistakes and let it die the way it was meant to?
I’m just trying to find my footing in this wasteland,
A lifeline in this flood of emotion and vulnerability,
And for all my strides and bounds,
I still can’t seem to move past our yesterdays, of days when I was happy and yours,
But how unlike me is it to wallow on a love that wasn’t meant to be?
So cheers to you, my would-be lover, to our love that once may have made headlines.
A love that would keep the world in check, but maybe in another phase, another life,
Since a love like this is too much emotion for one person to handle all its consequences.
So let the words that were spoken and those that have yet to be let out stay silent,
After all, isn’t that the appeal of a wasteland?
Broken, barren and full of hope for those who wander aimlessly.
So let them define us in a moment that was and will never be,
Let me embrace you in my insanity and wrap you in this twisted love,
And we’ll try to let the past lead us down and down and down…