What is love? A prison, there's so much I want to explore in you. As it changes like seasons while the time passes. I would describe it in many forbidden places your lungs has to offer.

Your love is like a door, a door that is so hard to open you can't get out of the past, a door with no cracks that will not allow any breath of thin fresh air come to untie my curtains.

Your love is like a wild forest, no matter how much I explore the depths of your rose-tinted eyes,

I can never see a clean mirror where it reflects what is inside of those twisted words? what do you see instead of a crushed up doll? what can you hear instead of a melancholic howl?

Your love kept crawling in my body like vines hanging out of your tongue, the bitter taste of having to feel your words, carved and stained in my ivory skin and having to endure the

brewed thunders inside my lungs.

'What can you see except a forgotten land?'

You would treat me like a mistake on paper, erasing me.

I am not a broken wall that needs to be repainted just to be used again.

You would treat me like a prisoner, you were the jail.

Your heart was a cell, and she holds the key to your locked up feelings.

'Have I dreamed of a paradise that doesn't exist?'