Someone wake me up, this has to be a bad dream. This isn’t real life. It can’t be what it seems.
I never imagined this is where I’d fall. Take this heart of mine, I don’t want it at all.
I don’t want to feel this pressure, can’t seem to leave this pain. Love was supposed to be my aggressor, but can’t help thinking it was all in vein
Love was supposed to cover my scars with care and finesse, Not leave me uncovered, exposed, emotionally undressed.
Love was supposed to put together my broken pieces, Upholding the standard of the previous thesis.
Love was supposed to be my inspiration, my muse. Love was supposed to be my light in the dark, the spark to my fuse.
So here I am broken and tattered, Discontent, discarded and scattered,Knowing that love is everything good intended.
I question was it ever really love or your own self-centered intervention?