The Love that we love to lust for
That is not truly for us.
As careless and carefree as the wind, yet has the ability to fertilise unknowingly and oh so naturally.
Not for me
Not for you
Not for us.
It belongs to no one and seeks to travel the world of pleasure; simply for experience rather than gain
For the taste, despite their insatiable hunger
This love that is greedy and doesn’t stop wanting your worship
The intensity is equally as aloof as it is clingy
All consuming, like the sea above our heads
Drowning, yet simultaneously swimming towards this treasure chest; of gold and riches unknown
Never quite reaching it
Never quite grasping it
But the hope and idea of it keeps us swimming
Treasures that will never truly be ours
This is that type love.
This dangerous love.
A one-sided love.
A victim and the criminal love.
Taking advantage and the crying damsel in distress
The Beast raped Beauty in sleep, mentally, but Disney forgets that part of the story
That Beauty – in all of her blissful and willing ignorance – became a slave to beast
To this abusive love
Of the Injured and Insecure; constantly breaking the beautiful, passionate and innocent
All she has is you and your abuse to look to, hoping one day that you will gain humanity