Cupid’s Favorite

Cupid licked the arrows with a poisoned tongue.

Aimed for me with such poise,

let go, and in the air it sung.

Hit me in the back all the while it never stung.

Thought I was finally with the one

until the left side of me went numb.

You closed me off as we were opening up.

We were forcing trust,

knowing we weren’t important enough

to make the efforts

to have each other in our lives of love.

Our intentions were rooted in deception,

we demanded a love we once knew.

I ripped the arrow out

to still be left with the wound.

To heal from it,

I’m like an addict needing his fix to function.

So on to the next one, Cupid aim for me again.

Rehab for me will be once love is no longer destructive.