I am not the comfort they say love is.
I am the persistent revolution
Butterflies in your stomach.
Pep in your steps.
Nervous fidgeting,
I am the constant nudge
To sit in front of the Truth that is life.
I am not the cosiness of your cocoon,
I am the rattling, crackling of your shells.
I am not the flowers they say love brings.
I am the fire that burns the facade down.
I will not be the continuation of you,
I cannot be the continuation of me....
We will both have to go down!
Don't worry!
What little will remain of us
Will be pure.
