Romance is an illusion of the mind, it makes you see things that aren’t there and think things that aren’t true. Clouds your judgment, inhibits your reason. A trick, a fraud. It makes you live in the reality you choose to imagine, where you believe to be happy, but none of it is real. Just a comfort, a sweet lie to hold onto when the truth feels too cold You call it unique, nothing quite like it What you call special yet can feel it for many, hatred is more loyal loyal like a dog than this that you love. It surpasses obstacles you say, no you swear. Yet if you could never touch me again, you’d leave, fleeing like smoke from a fire that's long burned out. Romance is real I do not deny its existence but the edges always fray, don’t they?
1 HOUR DOWN THE DRAIN
