Inked Thrills

The words you use today have been estranged,
insignificant to this love.
Yes, and I can see the dying, this moaning, the weeping.
Saint Valentine, I feel a trait of a trend in love.
Why do you make this vision, so unclear.
I feel this foul setting in,
It pricks, it hurts, it's killing me.
I can feel like I'm setting foot on dry ice.
Yes, the pain of a torment, a sin,
the numbness, the smooth friction,
all so much for contradiction, the paradoxical stories.
The pressure lurks, you can feel it bite.
Yes, pain, the pressure,
You want to kill, yet the target's you.
Madness, yes it is, so much I get for these little things I do.
I will put up a fight,
for the day, for the lesson of the week.

Sheryl Yeo
3 Grace