Hearts made of wax long for flames that will last long enough to collapse our chests into our backs. Melting away all that was keeping it safe. Another sanctuary broken. Concaved chest left to be gaping wide open. In other words hearts are meant for breaking, seeing as how everything we know will someday die out. Oh god. Help me to feel something that's real because there's got to be a spark before our bodies collide. Lie to me lying on sheets as lust synchs our heartbeats. Hold my hand. Let's pretend that things are better. Now whisper to me something sweet and I will act like I'm flattered. With these torn paper wings on our backs we can convince one another of our faith in each other, and how we couldn't ever dream of any other lover...but really when I am dreaming, I'm only dreaming of 'her.' Love songs and inexpensive drugs won't paint the picture quite as perfectly as they should, so take your time counting petals as I remain to you misunderstood. I don't want to be held liable for ending this, but I'm up against the wall since "I love yous" are meaningless. I told myself I'd never believe this, but we've fallen out of love and fallen to pieces.
