Disease

The struggle between leaving someone or staying in a repeatative cycle.

I thought loving you was a disease
Like an infesting tumor
Sucking out my life
From all my running veins.
I knew I had to excise you
I thought I needed you to burn me
Hurt me like my skin has been peeled off
Make me bleed until I turn pale
Until blue replaces the pink hue of my skin.
But I was wrong
So wrong.
Not loving you is a greater disease
With no remedy.
It felt like going on a war
My soul nothing but a battlefield
And thorns pricking my foot
Which I thought I built a thick skin of.
I’m infected by you
By your venom
By your sting
By everything that’s you.
If freedom from you
Is walking on lava
Than I would rather be a
Prisoner of our doomed love.