I’m a truly tortured man… is it a surprise.
I’m an artist that wears his heart on his sleeve and am prone to having my shirt stolen. I love with more of me than I have to give and surviving the aftermath is bound to kill me eventually.
I would prefer to endure the aftermath of pain and love so deeply risking my own demise than not to love. My entire construction relies on being loved and giving deeply of myself I don’t know how to do it any other way. Nor am I sure I want to.
Life is a slow acting poison that will kill us all eventually, I would prefer to die loving too much.
