Kill it

ʜⁱ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ? ɪ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ɪ ᵈᵘⁿⁿᵒ ⁱᶠ ɪ'ᵐ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ɪ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ. ɪ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ. ᴅᵘⁿⁿᵒ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵃˡˡ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ. ᴇⁿʲᵒʸ!!

I don't know what to do

I nestle the feeling gently in my palm

and coo soft soothing words to it

like a mother.

Affection curdles.

Something sinister lingers in the horizon,

a shift.

And then my palms close in slowly.

There is nothing gentle

about the way it presses down

carried away by a desperation

very foreign to the feeling of love,

I squeeze tight.

With all the force,

possibly quite unnecessary

for something so fragile and meek.

It struggles, it writhes in pain,

longs once more for the gentleness

that once was,

but it is nowhere to be seen.

Vaporized.

It is a tragedy.

I have loved

and I have loved so hard,

that I had to kill it.

I can't name the compulsion.

It simply overcomes and consumes entirely.

What would you call it?

Suffocating the very thing you adore

with every bit of your being?

And every second of its existence

was a bane to yours

because you adored it so.

You would die for it,

you would die for it,

it should die for you.

And so it did.

And once again,

in loving someone

I've destroyed them

and myself in the process.

My love is like the poison ivy;

once something makes it's way inside

entwined forever,

neither makes it out alive.

I kill it.

All over again.

ᴛʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ!