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Love is Dead
Loving you has become synonymous with breaking myself.
Ominously and so subtly present when I met you.
Veiled in the shadows of a love I thought would save me.
Easing myself into a devastating contract I didn’t understand.
I signed myself up for eternal misery without even knowing.
Signed myself up for the pain of losing myself within you.
Darkness seeped in while your hands intertwined with mine.
Evading all detection before it was too late.
A love built up on lies and unrequited feelings.
Dead, the idea that love ever ends in love.
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The idea that love ever ends is love is dead.