Viral

too hard to explain but closer to an account of the time just nearing the end of all that has ever been good to me.

Move on,
please,
I implore you,
here is not your place,
not with me or by me.
Away is wear you belong,
as far from my reach as possible.
Escape my grasping tendrils,
guilty shame riddled side effects,
I am not what your search concludes.
I am not your key to life,
not your answer,
not your fate.
I am the virus,
I am the love entwined sickness,
and the only cure is heartbreak,
double dose of failure and neglect.
First glance will reveal a savior,
but only to overshadow the truth.
The darkness,
the best intentions between us...
Lead directly to end of our time,
and when I fail to convey my love,
it is apparent we rely solely on each other,
lacking in vice or method escape.
Co-dependant pantheon...
To praise the era of our self destruction,
symphonies of contradiction,
legions of the blind and frail emotions
and as what seems to be happiness peaks,
it is not but the nearing of the end.
This is and forever will be,
your’ infection.
My infection.
Ours.

Author's Note

id love to hear what you think.

Reviews

[Lydia]

The first half held my attention, and the last four lines are brilliant, but the rest of the second half sort of dragged for me a bit - as if you're trying too hard perhaps...? The poem is so pure to start, and the wordiness of the latter part messes with the flow, in my opinion. Love your ideas though, I enjoyed this piece.