Across the room he stood
As she tried to stir a lung
The bitter taste of love
Dancing on her tongue
She watched with carefully practiced
And masked indifference
He scowled and she swallowed
Down deep her laments
What a fickle friend, she thought
Love seems and insists on acting
An unfeeling traitor of woe
Constantly scratching where we are lacking
There is no use in resistance
Laughing it off or turning away
Love lurks, shoves, and bites back
Dampening the bright sun’s rays
A pungent, potent smell
Waltzed in through her nose
The scent that reeks of curséd hopes
Like a muddied, bloodied rose
A pang of stark remorse
Thundered within her mind
Giving light to the agony of Memory
Of the deepest, sharpest kind
She opened her eyes as he glared
At her from the other side
The bitter taste of love
Taking her for a ride.