A virus ravages the world.
A famine envelops mine.
I crawl into bed,
Having no measure of time,
Sleep eludes me for days,
As your memory ravages my mind.
I lift up the pillow you used
And hold it to my face.
Your smell has followed you away.
I remember,
If you remember how I would,
Or if you undoubtedly felt
When you said,
I don’t want to be with you.
Promises have no small print.
They are to be weighed with care.
They are not mere words spoken.
They prove only truth not dare.
They act as a sacrament:
A foundation set in stone:
Love’s finger codes each of them,
Fate makes each of them atone.
They are providential:
They become subject to suit
Even the smallest flower,
When it was yet just a root.
Promises are marks of love,
Just hunger is what they ease.
They mark a higher power,
For hope is what they increase.
A lover once said:
Blood was thicker than water.
He proved it.
International normalised ratio
Indicates coagulation.
Radioactive equivalent water thickness
Indicates purity.
But purity of blood
Sometimes
Causes an uproar.
Pure bloods are incorrect.
Still lovers leave.
Blood is thicker than water.
It begs the question then:
When thirst beckons
Why is water chosen?
Drink blood, lover.
Hearts Still Care 
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