Pain, Of Our Needs
If our lives revolve around pain,
by Monica Lynn Mason
Why does love exist?
Why, because it causes so much of the thing we hate.
Something we love always finds a way to leave,
They hardly ever hesitate.
If we despise the pain,
Why do let our love corrupt the brain?
I constantly make the same mistake,
That causes most of my heartache.
To take back the dagger and cut again.
To be in my watery grave of tears,
That I thought would have subsided by these years,
But just to find that they would be the thing to tear me down.
You were my reason for life,
The cause for me still living.
Now I find you are just pulling me to the bottom of my pool of dispair.
But, to my relief,
I'm now no longer breathing.