Lovely in Her Bones: A Kru Agape Novel

How shall the funeral rite be read? The solemn song be sung? The loveliest requiem for the loveliest dead, That ever died so young? Edgar Allen’s poem, A Paean speaks of love and adoration, even in death, and how even death cannot make you a better person, but there are still those who love you. Where there is love, there is an ache that you feel with your entire being, and in all eventuality it must ease, or your heart becomes hard. Love gets stuck in your head and it won’t come out. Love will eat you alive from the inside out if you don’t answer its call. Love holds people together; it holds them apart as well. Love can only be at peace inside of you for so long until it finds someone to focus on. Be them good or bad, Love is unbiased. Love wants what it wants and it is your duty to give in to it. Love can be a sweet song that whispers in your ear, a cool breeze against your skin. It can be a sharp pain in your heart, and tightness in your chest. It is sweet like a kiss and sharp like a razor blade. You can fight as much as you want but you will never win against it. When you fall in love, you’ll know it. You will know unparalleled joys; and unspeakable pain if you give in. But what about death? Not just death of the heart, but true death? Who dies because they love the wrong person? Who loves the wrong person so much that we die? Are well just waiting on that death? Whether it be from heartache, or the hands of fate, will we all find love and realize the finiteness of our lives? Whether we love for days, years, or centuries, we will all know love, and we will all die. If I should die but once, should I know great love. I wish I’d never known love. I wish love did not exist. I wish that love could leave me alone and let me live my life the way I had been for years. Years when I was happy and unburdened by the things that shouldn’t mix with death, like innocent love. When you live a life of blood and death, there is no room for love. The passion you feel is the passion for death of something that deserves it. I thought that was all my life would be, but I was wrong.