Liberated From Love

Like bare feet on hot sand, my heart is becoming calloused. 

My twin soul has been torn from me, my best friend murdered by my own hand.

The evidence drips from my hand as diamonds. 

But all I can see is time lost, slipping like sand. 

My hands reach for uncertainty, my heart yearns for disappointment. 

It's been two days, and I'm ashamed of how addicted I am to your love. 

As its abscence eats at my being, I can't help but crave the poison that has brought me to this point of desperation. 

The statue of our love has consumed who I was and broken it down to who I swore I would never be. 

As I walk the sidewalk, freshly liberated from the cage in your heart, I can't help but blame myself for what I've become. 

Without you, I don't know what to do. 

Friends have been sacrificed, relationships traded in for you. 

In return, I was gifted with IOU's.

My mind is cluttered with memories of you, and no broom could sweep away the pain.

I can't even recall who was responsible for my therapy before I met you.

I could hate you, or I could change me.

When guiltlessly, all you did and tried to do, was love me, unconditionally.

That would be enough, if or definitions of love were identical.

For me, it's six figures on top of feelings.

But you're old fashioned, without the class.

No matter where we go, we're changing.

And for the moment, I love you, but I don't like you, at all.