It tears me apart,
This feeling I have.
You would call it love.
I call it regret.
The one who I love,
He is not perfect.
Instead, he is far from it.
I'm in love with a monster.
Not one that hides beneath your bed.
Not a shadow lurking in the night.
Not one that chases you in nightmares,
One much more real.
You see, I'm in love with a killer.
Oh it hurts to say.
How it pains me to admit,
But I cannot deny it.
Sadly, I cannot ignore it.
He is both a devil and an angel.
With a silver tongue,
Blood on his hands,
And yet I feel he has a heart of gold.
He feels like a man,
Kills like a monster,
But protects those close to him…
Like an angel.
Is it fear?
Is it hate?
Is it regret, despair or pity I feel?
No, it is love.
I'm drowning.
Drowning in a sea of confusion,
Questions swimming in my head.
When? What? Why? How?
When will it end?
What is this?
Why me?
How?
its such any emotion struggle... conflict between 2 very different things... you enjoy it and at the same time you find it diffcult to endure.... simple, well written. i enjoyed it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
@Ruth Fumble: thank you, I really appreciate it :)