Friday 12 December 2008

The Painting (The Lie)....

I was never in love with you....
I was in love with the picture
We painted with our imaginations
You were just the embodiment of the dream
THE dream.
The promise, always too good to be true
I hold you, it, us still
In my heart
With nothing now but
Contempt
You were much better in my head
Than in my heart.

2 comments:

  1. But I'm afraid that is always the case. Perfection only exists in our heads

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