slow love

I thought it would be nice to be with you.
Nicer than the nicest moments and more infinite than the beautiful kind of

Is that why I fight for you
Is that why  I also fight with you.

But you shouldn’t fight ?
Should you

You do have so much potential for love.
Warm light falls on your face and its seems like the first ink on fresh paper
indelible yet so quiet

Poetic lies
are these?

You do have so much potential for love.
Maybe I thought you’d spare me some.
As sad as it may sound and a jerk would have called me pathetic!
But life’s too precious and I’m so
scared of leaving people
fear, is it
or the person
that pushes this fight
Verb or noun?

I wanted to try but I always sensed that something was stopping you.
And maybe that’s it, despite my darkness and despite my urge to love
I never told you the truth, I wasn’t in love with you.

With the one who would never love me
counted even


All this talk on love sounds so deliriously common!
There’s another thought though that comes to me tonight.

Death is peace. .because  peace is alcohol
A poet and his poem said so and some or many believe so
Isn’t it why we lull down, become louder or more quite
alone and together in those perfect moments
don’t include the violent kinds

Let’s include  drugs and harder drugs that change your mind
Changed in a manner like it will never be unchanged.
The hard ones I mean.
The soft ones, I like making hard love to.
So everyone’s death is peace.
Get it ?

If alcohol could be peace and I could slowly die with it
Then slow death is peace
and faster death, even more peace ?

Like slow love is fast death
And I wrote this sober!


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