I have a theory that the fairy tales are twisted
And that love is the curse, not the solution
Bringing nothing but endless sleeps
And overbearing emotional pollution
When you love someone a little piece of yourself becomes like them
And when you come to a standstill and the story is over
You close the book with a sigh
And that part of them is all you have left
When you love enough you forget yourself
That's what the books don't tell you
You're too busy becoming someone else
To realize that you're losing yourself