to be loved

love is torture

concealed in sweet coatings

but beneath the surface

something wicked brews


love isn’t real

it disappoints

falling short of expectations.

i envy those who are deceived


love feels real

almost alive –

a bouquet of roses

cut from their stems.

but the flowers always die.


so someone tell me

what it is like

to be truly loved?


Drop here!

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