Sunday, December 18, 2011

sonnet twenty two

strange as it is awful,
to let the blood spill where
it should not, when all
i ever cared about and

wanted was to love you,
and be whoever you need
me to be, naming the
nameless passion, it has

transformed and shaped itself
into something stronger than
what my will and logic knows

and so what if the havoc
looms tirelessly above us?
we are still holding each other.

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