Yesterday we had a commotion
it was mostly her,
war cries in a war zone.
In the morning she had scars
bandaged hitching a ride home.
She said she will never come back
a broken soul....
This love!
This love.
After a week
we saw a van park,
she stepped on the streets.
Her eyes sparked,
yet full of zeal,
this was that new love
it's like she missed him.
This love!
This love.
Sweet and pricks
like roses with thorns,
scents amid stings.
She walked into a quiet storm
hushed screams,
cracked bones
and streaming tears.
What strange love,
is this?
This love.
She killed herself
what for?
For a man that would kill for her
but alas!, this was not.
Dreams that fell apart
akin water escaping a keen grope,
spilled and splash,
dripped in dusty smoke.
Love fell and crashed....
this love.
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