I miss the quiet of unrequited love;
Quaint love that wasn't quite love,
Less like love and more of lust.
Just trust in faith, trust, and pixie dust
To guide your hand to this wonderous Wonderland,
A Neverland you'll never have
Where the only truth is fixation on imagination.
Sensual sensation and internal infatuation
In combination with pain and frustration of waiting for nothing;
I hate it.
But I love it, I laud it, applaud it,
The freedom, the fleeting feeling of being love drunk till kingdom come.
The beating drum of a beating heart that will be beaten down but will come around,
For in the game of love for two where only a single player plays,
There is no winner in the end, the joy comes from the chase.