They say make love, not war

But there’s always a constant battle

With my heart

I’m always fighting for another

And with every battle

I grow weaker

Losing soldiers, losing power

And battle after battle,

I lay wounded;

With bloody gashes,

And screams

Bursting from my lungs.

I stand on two wobbly feet again

Looking in the eye of the enemy

We shake hands

With gentle smiles

And they knock me off my feet again.

My heart is a fool for believing

That it could ever be loved

Or that it could ever love in return.

It is a curse

That the love gods have put upon us

That there will always be love in war

And war in love.

-M.B