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What’s the point?

Can your so-called honesty predict revelations?

This trigonometry repeals all my innovations.

The angle set had no equation.

We tried to make sense but our parallel lives never intersected.

Our love was a geometric oddity at best.

Something we would hate to love, but yearn to detest.

I hoped it wouldn’t last but I never wanted it to end.

Hopefulness came in a pretty package and oh my gosh I wanted to open it.

You were like a letter sent to me from the world.

And one of these days, I’m gonna see what it holds.

I can just imagine this stress being torn open with that envelope.

But if you can hear me, next time send a postcard.

Something that doesn’t need to be concealed so I can see your words for face value.

Scribbled on the back of a place I wish I was.

With you.

This hopefulness was still in the cards.

And I fought the fact that it was going to be hard.

But I never was superstitious enough to believe in fate anyway.

Or luck for that matter.

Or hope, I suppose.

Disappointment has [bad word] a revolving door.

You never ripped out my heart, but you ripped out my core.

I remember that night, that minute you said, “No one could ever replace you.”

Well darling, somebody’s bound to.

And when you walked away I found a different suitor to take your place.

Her name was Loneliness and she kept [bad word] 

She often speaks but she’s not very audible.

Her voice sounds like a windowsill cracking.

Sometimes a door blowing open, dancing in the breeze.

As I’m falling on my knees broken.

But when she usually speaks, [bad word] to me as a ghost.

Putting coals on my back as I sleep.

Burning holes in my flesh as I try to dream.

Warming up my spine and making me afraid of the heat.

And thats a ghost I want to be.

I was dead set on a dead bet that put all hope to bed.

Revenge.

Or just to avenge the half-baked love that burns at both ends.

Pretend? 

No it’s still not real.

If love exists, then I guess it doesn’t know how to feel.

How can I show love to her?

When I can’t feel it.

How am I supposed to show love to the world?

When I don’t believe in it.

I don’t know what love looks like.

As I close my eyes every night, 

I’m ready to breathe.

I’m ready to believe.

And I’m ready to be alive.

Just show me what love looks like.

Just show me what love looks like.

‘Cause you are love.

And I’m alive.
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