Saturday, 26 April 2014

Nothing seems to have changed.

The same fights every day
Ducking punches, blocking blows
And throwing furniture –
Routine we’ve had since honeymoon
Religiously.
The same defiant love still holding on
Clutching on straws
And, yes, the very bed where
I lost my innocence to you  
turned battlefield –
There’s cold ash where the fire used to burn.

Cold silent tears while facing the wall freezes the body
Nothing can thaw away the ice, or open the eyes
For when love is not there
Stench of death in the air,

Love is no longer what I want. 

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