The pain exchanged between us has a rate I’d hate to see.

I hesitate to demonstrate exactly what we used to be.

If history repeats itself, I’ll feel the need to seek some help.

Reached a peak and when we fell, we let go of what we held.

True intentions

in suspension.

Falling towards

another lesson.

Misdirected missed connection, lost within our misconception.

Is this it?

No needs are met.

Position on your knees and pray.

Tomorrows pain is lived today.

Truth is now a disguised fake

There in lies, the wait.

The stutter step.

New change of pace.

I met a person in a mask, who took it off too **** late.

In too deep, and never great.

Is this love, or my mistake?

It's blatant that we're never meant, a lovely fact we'll never face.