Why does love have to be
a raging sea
angry stormclouds
or claws raking at your chest?
Why do you constantly choose
this wrath
this apathy
when you know
there is someone else
that loves you truly?
There has to be.
Why can’t love be
not a fool’s paradise,
but paradise for the wise?
Paradise for the weak
and hurting
Paradise for those
who have suffered long enough
Why is it
that you always pick
the flowerless thorn
over the thornless flower?