How am I supposed to appreciate love, if love doesn’t appreciate me.
The representation of love, is all wrong.
It seeps into corners and follows people around,
This idea of love that has been created,
Brings the whole world to its knees.
Who am I to judge, when I have been judged,
For what I have done and what I will do,
There is a time and a place for this,
And what is left in its wake,
Is only false promises.
In this dark hour, I have nothing to give,
But myself.
And I will give it again and again,
Because you can rip apart the pieces of me,
Until all that is left is my body,
Bare and unwilling to surrender.
Yes, love is an unhealthy obsession,
An overwhelming attraction,
A fire burning through the mind,
Killing all reason, murdering your soul,
Without this monster growing,
We have the chance to move on.
Undivided attention, lying on the floor,
One last chance to understand,
Another way to make this compelling story,
A complete and utter lie.
Because love is the hunter.
And we are victims.
Without this monster growing,
We may finally have the chance to be free.
Jess Silva
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-is-the-hunter/
