
Don't Bother me with promises.
Vows are cheaply created,
come with no guarantees
at all, you know.
Don't bother saying you
Love
me. A word which is undefined.
Happiness to some, terror
to others, depending on their
circumstances. There
Is
proof that love
can make you live longer,
proof it can kill you sooner.
I think that it is
A Deadly
sickness. Or at least an
unknown ailment. Get it, and
you better take
your medicine as a
Weapon
against the ravishing fire
alive in your heart and
soul. So you should be
careful so not
To
catch it, be imprisoned
in it's waste left behind.
Red heart decorations
meaning more than words
can really
Hold
any meaning to. Starting
out lovely and ending
up fugly; out of breath
noticing you lag
Behind
in the long run and
realizing you can't escape
fate twice in a row now
and running from love
leaves all of
A Ribcage
tensing, straining like the
bars of a jail cell
against superman's prying
hands. It's all
You
can do to hold it
together now. Don't
bother trying to fix the
bars when you
Know
they are marred and
scarred beyond definition
by the undefinable word
and it's cheaply made
vows and promises
Love,
Don't bother.