I kiss your heart because those before me have scarred it.
Love
The thing about love is one can never define it exactly. And as much of a mystery as that is and as familiar it is when we acknowledge it, words just aren't enough. So we find ourselves scratching the walls while our hair is falling out. Then we can't live without it. We become addicts.
We write about love like we should be bound in padded rooms.
Love, Poetry, Poem