Love is a prison of the heart
Says the infatuated:
You are my prison guard
we observe the armistice
between our shadows
we live in a world
of small things
was originally published on Meandering home
So there. This is what you have done.
Something inside is waiting until you are gone.
My highest morality is a travesty.
My greatest love, revolting.
My sacred ones, a blemish on your race.
My hatred, the purest thing I know.