Betsy


Every day I look forward to your thoughts,
always waiting for those sweet goodnights.
I love the vast amounts of chemistry we seem to have;
comically chemistry was the place that with you I fell in love,
oh why is fates twisted game all I ever live.
Yet you always ignore the clues and hints that I with love entrust.
So all I have are the feelings dreams of you by my side ignite.
Yet sure am I that the dreams I dream are just that.
At the bottom of my heart a small seed of hope is always present,
always fed by insulting serein, but will not sprout nor waste.
Yet I am lost about the beginnings of this scourging pest.
Could it be a curse from mankind's greatest fault,
or a gift from mankind's greatest merit?
The emotions that erupt from my soul convince me it's indeed a flaw.
For just moments prior I was left in shock and awe,
when you with good intensions completely tore those dreams asunder.
Like a butterfly, who flaps its wings causing a hurricane to wander.
The pain that travels from my stomach to my heart,
feels like a hand groping in and clasping tight.
Yet to this feeling I am all too intimate.
You try what I all too well know as the usual pretext.
I'm left with another friend never to be seen.
Yet through this escape route you feel like you have done no sin.
I applaud your genius and believe your lies so well told.
Because my heart has never been the one to behold,
the ugly truth well hidden behind your masquerade.

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