Isn’t love a wonderful thing?
A feeling so pure,
A feeling of bliss.
It’ll shake you to your bones
And rattle your world.
But when the fuel runs out,
And you’re in ‘crash’ mode,
There are no parachutes.
So when you fall, you fall hard.
And you break your fragile little heart.
What do you do?
Where do you go?
When you love someone so much, do you let them go?
Where is your home?
Because isn’t home where you make it?
And to whom do you turn?
When all of your friends are her friends?
And all his friends are your friends?
How will you make it out alive?
When it feels like there’s a stake in your empty, hallow heart.
How will you run?
When the beat from your steps have been taken by the one you love.
How will you breathe?
Knowing your lungs are filled with regret.
How do you dream?
When all you dream is about them.
How do you live?
Knowing they aren’t yours, at least not anymore.
How do we move on?
Knowing that they aren’t coming back.
And the world is still moving and everyone in it is as well.
And everyone is progressing, everyone but you.
How do we learn to love again?
When our insides had been ripped to shreds.
And all the feelings you had of light and hope, aren’t there.
And when all you can do is nothing at all.
How do we cope?
When you see her, arm in arm with a man.
Or when you see him, hand in hand with a.girl.
How do we grab a hold of sanity?
When all you think about is his scent,
Or your hand on her hips.
And all the good times you both had together.
How do we find ourselves?
When the one we love isn’t there.
How do we believe in faith?
When all thoughts of devotion have been taken away.
Where do we hide?
When all you know are the places that you both used to go?
Where do we lie?
Knowing you’ll never get an ounce of rest ever again?
How do we trust?
When all you see is betrayal and hate from your eyes?
How do we speak?
When all you speak about is love?
How do we learn to live again?
I don’t know, I really don’t.
“Time heals all wounds.”
Seconds ticked into minutes,
Minutes passed to hours,
Hours turned to days,
Days became weeks,
That soon became months.
And that’s when months turn to years.
But love still hurts.
