The greatest frustration in my life, seems to come from what is becoming a distorted view on Love. In my mind and heart, Love is this grand ever-changing idea. A notion so great, its very existence voids all sense of reason and logic. Love, in itself, has no set definition and is a fluid emotion experienced differently by all. Whereas my idea of Love, is almost an excuse. An excuse for the absurd situations I repeatedly put myself in. Situations, where if logic was applied, anyone could see are toxic and contribute nothing except despair and regret. Despite knowing exactly how detrimental my aversion to this common rationale is, I can’t help but believe in my definition of Love to pull me through. I’ve done it so many times and so many times it has failed me. I guess I’ve become a moniker for insanity… In my journey of self discovery, I’ve danced around the question “How long am I willing to accept the punishment, synonymous with my definition of Love?” Whether I lose faith or continue on in my fallacy, Love will always be my excuse.

I’ve felt the hope, within a potent excuse

I’ve sealed my fate with an abstract noose

Hanging on by a fluid thread

Leaving reason behind, left for dead

No longer captive to my mind’s dissent

Breaking free for a taste of what I’ve dreamt

A foolish endeavor with no end in sight

A broken heart and repeating plight

I’ll self inflict these mortal wounds

Sealing Love into empty tombs

But once more, as always with the abuse

For I’ve felt hope, within a potent excuse