Freedom Rider
No sympathy, no pity, no compassion,
my heart severed between pleasure and affection.
All of the beauty is turned to pain, in my
recollection of you. I let myself love you,
you would not let yourself love me. So now I pay
the price of loving. Is this why you could not love?
Is this what you're afraid that you would
have to live through? How could you understand?
How could you ever begin to imagine? I couldn't.
Now I may never be able to again, not freely and
openly like I handed myself to you.
P. J. Campise
