Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Love is a bullsh!t pestilence

So tranquil,
So composed,
How the words fall
Out your mouth
Like a flood,
Or a viral infection, immediate to spread.

Either way,
I find it somber.

I want your heart,
And am currently

Maneuvering

Random ways to
Embezzle it from you.

I wonder if you'd even
Know the dissimilarity, a lack
Of heart has to make one
Feel differently, correct?

I always craved that you
Would be the fire of which
I would graciously put out.

I have just the water to smolder you out.

January 2, 2007
Suge


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I don't know what the hell I'm writing about. This poem is an example of that...Haha


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Love is a bullsh!t pestilence

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