Special Connection

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When you think of love
Much comes to mind.
You see a soft pink lip gently touching a forehead,
hand in tender, caressing hand.

You think of frilly clouds and fancy dates.
You hear giggles and soft laughter,
Tender coos and soothing compliments.

But if you really think about love,
Then what is presented to mind?

I see the dark shadow of an empty heart,
The jagged edges of broken desire.
I see the emptiness left behind in a frail, shriveled form.
I hear the pitiful last beat of woeful life,
Smell the decay of self mutilation,
And taste the harsh salt of fresh, cleansing tears.

Love can be twisted into a harsh reality,
Can be changed into something that the world need not see.
Love is a contradictory element full of
Mystery.
Love is hate.





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