If happiness is from Heaven, and sadness from Hell,
I’m in-between worlds.
I’ve learned more from Hell,
then Heaven could ever tell.
Sadness etched on lips, and fingertips.
Creating it, that false sense,
of whatever Love is.
You’re always a victim, but never the culprit.
Funny to me, of "we,"
you found us first and kept it, Dear.
The voorpret we felt, as each drew near,
has now turned into fear.
Perhaps a love between you and I,
should have remained as mamihlapinatapai.
That, after all,
would have been, a happy end.

**-N.C.