From the bottom of my heart

The performance

And another thing about living
Is that all the world's a stage.
We are all actors,
Puppets of the great puppeteer,
Yet He gives us free will-
To be true to ourselves,
And Him
And those around us.
But we become enslaved to our own
Inner demons,
The element of pretence infiltrates and permeates
our entire being,
So we no longer need a heart.
The show must go on!
Now, your warm breath pooled in and out with my heartbeat
My laughter and your tears mingled together,
Intertwined, tangled in the mess we created all on our own.
No longer self-sufficient.
No longer in control.
Are we proud of this?
Who else can we blame?
That's right, no one!
We and we alone are responsible for this.
And so we take the blame and live with it.