Love is like a curse.
Making me believe.
In things I haven't felt.
My heart is a muscle.
So it must have a memory.
Of somebody's love.
Lost long ago.
Only there is no beating heart.
No unsaid remark.
No last chance.
No last dance.
It turns out.
I'm getting pretty good.
At this solo act.
Love is like a curse.
Never to be broken.
It only breaks me.
Until there is no memory.
Curse this love.
Curse this heart.
For making me believe.
In what's untrue love.
Where's the only thing I've felt.
Is this cursed love.