In what world would love not be hell to those that make it their own.

It is the pleasurable torment of the mind heart and soul.

One would think that it should not hurt.

That one would be wrong.

But when does hurt take over.

When does the pain no longer become pleasure.

When does enough become enough.

It is when…

Each tear becomes a badge of courage.

Along with each wounded cry.

A bouquet of roses becomes melancholy.

A kiss becomes a chore.

A minute becomes a year.

A year becomes eternity.

A field of sunflowers makes you sad, because it reminds you of that one time…when you were happy.

A favorite meal tastes of ash.

And wine becomes flavorless.

And the ache within seems to grow.

While the love does fade.

When is love not enough?

Never.

But sometimes…

Just sometimes…

Love cannot remain when

It no longer gives you wings.

You no longer feel yourself soar.

When what was once freedom, becomes a cage.

You will be bruised, beaten and ripped to shreds.

But more then anything else, you become tired.

Tired of hurt

Tired of pain

Tired of guilt

Tired of sadness

Tired of the exhaustion

Tired of stress

Tired

Tired

And there are no more recharges

For your heart is dry

And can no longer be filled

By the one that dried it

That persons love

Has been taken by they themselves

And there is no more.

Love it seems, is not always so eternal.