Poetry

The Violent Arrow

We don’t fall in love gracefully.
Our hearts are intruded upon
By Cupid’s golden point.
Lodged,
It infects
Frustrating all reason
Making us damaged and erratic
Captive and taking commands
From a synthetic chemical.

But we can snatch the arrow from our chests
Yes, the barbs will rip the heart
And cause you to bleed out.
Maybe even die.
But sometimes, loving another
Is a fate far worse than death.

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