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Love.
My life has been a series of trials, a consortium of denials, and a cacophony of verbal biles, all in an attempt to obtain that drug of choice; Love.
But I'm never in love. Only in love with being loved...
It's a crazy, cancerous, craving, that has me radically, rashly behaving, only to bring me to the brink of caving. I wish I could live without; love.
What is love?.. love is belonging.
Love is a shelter from the storm of life. It is a shield against the metaphorical knife, built to block that bloodied blade of pain and strife... Yet it still causes me pain more often than not; love.
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I wrote this when I was going through a really rough patch, it’s from a darker time of my life but I’m still very proud of it.