Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Love Is A Sickness

We went walking in the woods,
disturbing flora and fauna,
watching them all turn their heads,
one after another,
shock and shame on every face that stared.
Maybe it was in my head,
or maybe I was losing my mind as my lips lost, locked in a kiss that was toxic but tremendously important.
Your yearning was a sickness,
so they said,
and I was infected,
maybe hallucinating,
maybe hell bound,
but holding onto it with both hands,
breathing you in,
begging to be sick too.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s