It by Anonymous

A love sprung from hate

Two sparring halves of a conflicted boy, Reaching across a rippling mirror. Depths as boundless as the sea engulf joy, As they shroud my mind from seeing clearer.

Thirst grew, not for the water between us, But for a love that would sustain and bear, Carry the weight of a bloom like a stem, Find beauty in my loathed cheeks, and hair.

Love, a double edged sword, sprung from hate, From it’s deceitful poisoned well I drink, Kissing his gentle lips which serve as bait, Under love’s heavy burden I do sink.

My other half, pulling me underneath, It fills my lungs and at last I can breathe.

By Lou Hutchison