Fake.

He said I’m cold,

But he made a mistake.

It’s a blow,

The things said were fake.

It has taken a toll,

The past has been raked.

I don’t know,

How long it’s going to take.

But don’t let that doubt grow,

For goodness sake.

I’m not cold,

And I’ve no hate.

Please let him know,

Before decisions are made.

‘Cause when I go

Through the exit gate,

It’ll be three hours or so,

To the relationship’s wake.

Unsuperficial.

Maybe he could hear her heart break.

Maybe he knows how her heart would ache.

Maybe he knows how much she could take.

But fleeting emotions for her he can’t fake,

Too intense for sanity’s sake.

Undeniably, it is her that keeps him awake.

Imagination.

“Lips of an angel,”

You said.

“That must’ve been lovely,”

She cheered.

Silence.

Little did she know it was her.

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