In the end, everything workrd out to ensure that you and I never end up together, the universe made it so you and I remain an hypothesis.
Perfection doesn't exist and I believed you to be perfect, I believed you and I to be a perfect match but the idea was doomed before it began.
Watch me dance, watch me sidestep. Basic observation would deduce I lack rhythm, proper sight would confirm I am without soul.
Irony befitting, my first love was a love I never had and my interpretation led me to believe that I was unworthy of it.
Perhaps I am. Perhaps I'm a demon which was fortunate enough to inhabit human skin, only to be overwhelmed by its desires, its needs.
We are not of God, we're too damaged for such privilege. Ours is an existence unholy and this unholy sight of mine caught one of Gods' favorites.
We are born again, though shone in Gods love we still walk within the sanctuary of darkness, we still tango with demons.
