Sticky conundrum.

You, you. I have so many questions for you.
Tears ran dry and the heart stood still.
5 years down the road, but the feelings still linger
like the smell of textbooks and a nervous first grader.

Yes I know, you can take the pain
You can take the memories fucking up your brain.
Then spend the days in a withered daze,
cut up, mangled and yet unfazed.

I ponder, I wonder,
what’s the science of blood fed torture.
Not a fiber weaker, not a sinew thinner,
but this barren pasture, not a slight bit greener.

What a beauty, a lovelorn heart,
no shining beacon in the shrouding dark.
Was it the lost love that kept you clinging,
or the beguiling pain that felt good stinging?