Love is almost always a tragedy.
Unbeknownst to you or I,
The tender words;
Gentle kisses;
And soft praise-
Lulls our senses to sleep.
Although our dreams tell tales
About harsh realities.
It's the roar and chatter
Of cottled illusions, lies,
And of make believe
That force us awake.
"I think we're better off."-
This broken heart and I: Alone.
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