Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

After everything, somehow I still love.
What kind of fool loads a six chamber with five rounds and dreams of playing Russian Roulette?
The fool who has known the taste of that one empty chamber,
known the fire of loving freely,
and intensely.
Maybe I am a fool.
But I'd rather be a fool on her way than someone afraid to believe in the best things in life.

This is simply my heart.
This is who I am.
I have a hundred reasons to stop loving,
to stop believing,
and only one reason not to stop - I can't.