Love Abound

Hey there my invisible lover, the only difference is that I bleed red,

You’ve heard it before, everything in this poem you’ve already read,

Continue anyways, burn myself to welcome the companionship of infections,

They willingly stick around – better than you and all of our past, present and future connections,

Nonetheless, I mope as it thrives – one day it will surely take me over,

Depression rampant, am I the only one seeing death as a four leaf clover?

Must be, for superficial friends others show such gratitude,

She offers wisdom – “I’m here for you” – the most painfully false platitude,

She isn’t and neither are you, think about it – for you’re in the same position too!

It makes me laugh seeing we all figure this out eventually – it hit me when she uttered: “we’re through,”

The irony is, feeling like this poses no threat to my comfort level,

Thank god? No, I’d just as soon pay my respects to the devil,

They exists just as much as we will in a centuries time, dead and gone like our mind,

Can’t relate? Leave me, I’m different – run along, have fun with your own pathetic kind.

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