Wishful Thinking.

Bitterness poisons the mind with memories,
feasting on the brain like a parasitic tumor.
It will eat away your future,
suckling the experiences you will never have.
Before you realize it, your cheeks have wallowed,
your skin has bagged,
the light in your eye has grown dim,
like the disbelief in fairies and tall tale knights.
You grow old and your consciousness wavers.
Thoughts turn to past recollections,
the painful outweighing the pleasant.
You've fallen down a stairwell,
thrown off by kind words suddenly spoken.
You're cracked and broken, but too far gone to fix.
You quiver on the cusp of death,
wishing you could forgive and forget,
wishing you could have moved on.
The life you never knew flashes before your eyes.
You die, tear ducts wet and pale cheeks stained.

Anger has a way of ageing us.

well...

I have found someone I would die for. I would die for drive. I would die for determination and passion. 

I would die for you.