" he who loves never leaves"
Is it true?, does it exist, is love real, is it still there??
If its not, what about us who carry it in our hearts, in our actions in our words with pride.
And why does it hurt so much, if it's all but fictional
Why does it feel like a bolder on Ur chest
Gasping for air
Why does it consume every part of us, every thought and every emotion
Why does it tear us apart??
Why does it hurt? Why this much?
Why can't it be like the petals of a rose
Why does the torns have to stain through into my finger tips, rushing the blood flowing through
With every unsaid word, with every unsaid emotion, the torn buried itself deeper.
