Why do I feel pain,
When I am meant to feel love,
When I am meant to feel strong?
It is like the sun in my chest,
Creating my weakness,
Creating my heart,
Creating the start,
To a long road, ahead.
Why don’t I feel strong,
And all I feel is pain?
It is a weakness, a sickness, a knowing
To know what isn’t meant to be known,
A longing to know,
What is never meant to be known.
A fear in the future,
So unlike reality.
And beauty stares at me with a cross upon her heart,
I share an arrow to rip through it.
Love is hot, and cold,
It is the mixture of expectation,
And the unexpected.
The coincidental and the ironic,
In heartstrings like tendrils
Of embedded flame.
I am annoyed with myself.