Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

STD

It is true.
I don't know love,
Or how it moves mountains.

I don't know how it breezes
In
&
Out
Of a persons life.

And I probably wouldn't want to.

I don't know the nature of the beast,
Or the waterfall that romance provides.

I find love like I find most monsters;
Scared and hiding in dark corners,
Begging to not be seen.

In my forest of hate, love does not
Provide the stream of moonlight to
Help guide me through.

Nor is it a shiny star in the sky,
Made special for me.

Love is a bear trap I try not to get my foot caught in.

Hugs and kisses do make me cringe,
I am meek and I fear germs.
I do not think the transference of spit is sweet.

In the darkness of my life,
Love has not provided sunlight.
The dusk and the dawn are not powered by the beating heart.

I believe in caring, and not being an a$$hole,
But in my garden of despair, love does not bloom.

I am a creature of the night.
Love is not a flashlight.

Love is an eerie cretin, a germ, a toxin that
Spreads delight faster than a wh((o))re spreading her legs.
It is an STD and I don't want it.

Love is not beautiful, love maims.
Love is the darkest corners of my mind,
And the greed in my heart.
Love is society's collapse, and the hope that it brings.
Love is perverted and sad,
Love is no friend of mine.

But I keep the light on anyways.

12-27-11


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