The Inevitable

For love is nothing more than
A dagger to your heart
Which slowly goes in.

The deeper it goes 
The harder it is to pull it out.

And when you do 
Drops start oozing first 
And then it all pours out. 

The sweet feeling of 'someday'
Is taken over by the Inevitable end.

When all the blood rushes out
And scars cover you
All that remains is the pool of blood.

A remainder of what was 
And what could have been.