Different

Unmatched by touch, Lust rips through the cracks of the fingers sewn together, forever embraced, the hands not meant to touch, the love not meant to be, but solemnly bound together. Two hearts, among separate paths, differing within, as well as outward battles, I cannot let go, nor can you. True love can be wrong, and usually is, letting go is wrong, but its sometimes, all we can do.. Loves separates, as well as keeps us whole, Love the contradiction, our hearts the wound, Never healed, and never whole, nothing to mend, and nothing to be sewn.