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History tends to repeat itself frequently when greeted by me. It wakes up memories buried so deep earthquakes begin to scream. Eternal damnation is oh so present without death and dying. The fairness in loving someone capable of killing you without a second thought is non existent. How can one feel so deeply for something so vicious and vile? How can someone believe that evil loves them just the same. If you loved me you’d fight as hard as I do to try and keep history in an impenetrable museum covered in gray matter. Invading my healing wound like an infection, I’m sick. I’m feverish from your touch, nauseous when I look into your eyes. You smell of expired medication, no matter how many I take I will continue to be in this infected state. You can’t fix something begging to be broken, only in a perfect world can we live as one peacefully.
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This is really good, well done!
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