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Despite your scorn I still adore you.
My heart still quakes when your name appears,
like lightening on my tongue.
Or along the chains of my heart,
pulled tight.
Should i release you from this hold,
when you seemed content in it.
But now,like a lost love tale you hide from me,
The fruit you picked no longer taste sweet.
The love is no longer syrupy dripping,
wet on your tongue.
But I still adore you.
Though my skin you'll never really touch.
Though you said you loved me and that was enough.
This is no longer sad poetry.