Love, halted not dead, But frozen in space. The time persisting.
The emotion melting and stopping Like an ice cream cone saved by the freezer. A melted deformity locked in place. Halted, not alive or dead, not awakened or silenced. Loud and ever present but unnoticeable in a conscious flow. A rock which holds in the deep of a rushing river, Too far down to bestow the white rush on the surface But high enough to injure the man unaware of it in his passing. This great epitome of the inner self, Self-inflicting misery on the inflictor, The masochist. The building surge of electricity sparking from a blown transformer Showering sparks of anger on the pavement. Why is this shocking when it should be certain? Love, the relationship of two is built and broken, Is now breaking and building two.
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