The rabbit hole, I have jumped into is a long and dark one.. There is no light at the end, just an unknowing of who will catch me and when..

Love is treacherous, as is my heart. A never ending maze of locks and keys, one size fits all doesn't apply. I tore down your face as if it were nothing but a wall of vines, nothing more but a trail to climb. I saw the real you, your mask was gone.

I will never be happy in love, it isn't for me.. Nothing is, but it's a choice I have made. A choice which isn't refundable.. The ride has ran out of turns, my coins have disappeared.. No more turns on this carousel. Forever spinning wasn't forever like we'd planned.. Forever doesn't really last forever, nor does love. It will end, in it's own time.

Now what? What is there for me? There are no answers, no more questions, just a never ending epilogue to this unopened book.. The dust has been brushed away, the seems repaired but where are the words? Washed away by your white wash paint, a metaphor of your love. Our love, it's no longer printable. The ink isn't invisible, it just no longer stains the page. Scotch safe a book? Never. We just lost that special ink.

Rotting, decaying. Not really no, wandering down a path of blooming trees. Sure, life goes on. So does love, but not for me. I can't believe in something I can't feel...