The vines twist and fold
Internally.
Growing, prickly in every
Turn against my heart.
In all directions, the pain
Scars itself within.
Bleeding inside, this affection
That grows and burns,
Signs itself into place
Until I breathe no more
Than you.
The vines push within
Slowly.
Aching thoroughly the words
That once meant something,
I see figures act as knives
Slashing truth before me.
Hiding inside, this love
It craves for your affection.
Though blinded by what I thought
I knew, --I knew
Always I knew
I loved you.
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