Risk

What a wicked game of Russian roulette,

love is.

How someone can go

from spilling their adorations for you

all over your soul

to suddenly

becoming so heartless

and placing a gun

to your temple

and pulling the trigger

and the aftermath is so bloody

and bitter

and you wonder,

“How did we end up like this?

How did you become so cold

and our bond, so meaningless?”

It began with a kiss

and it ended with a fist

to the gut

and a bullet

with the word love

engraved

on each side

and then it was fired

and laid to rest

in your brain

in your veins

in your heart

and all you can do is cry out

and scream

and wonder

if you’ll ever

feel a thing

again.

Here lies broken love.

May you Rest in Peace.

May you rest…

in pieces.

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