Jekyll & Hyde

Love is hard.
Every tug, pull, mashing and twisting of the heart strings until they are limp, lifeless, loveless.
Who's in charge in here?
Jekyll.
Or maybe it's Hyde.
I'm not sure, they all start looking the same.
One face, two face, three face.
Faceless in the face of the love that once was so sweet and pure.
I never realized how much loving someone hurts.
The capacity of sadness and volume of tears.

The twisting and turning.
Count sheep. Count stars.
Left right left right.
The pillow never satisfies.

Exhausting, I try and try and try again.
Imperfect, broken, messy.
My heart is full of glass shards that shred with every beat.
Every smile
Every picture
Every trip
Every conversation
Everytime
How much can the heart take before the limbless muscles and valves are sunken and torn up to wriggling worms?
Writhing, yearning, desiring to be picked up once again?
I want to love, I do- do I?
The desire to love is ever present, but desire is not the gate keeper.


The fall, the fall, the fall again.
Forever falling.
Must love surface the scars, the bruises, the snarls, decrepit places?
It isn't simple, should it be this hard?
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
You are my greatest gift.
I cherish you.
You mean so much to me.
You are my world.
I love you.
Words do not suffice when the sword swings still.