Love is at first a whisper... pressed against your ears, by the wind. Then it becomes a flicker, that burns from within; emotions expressed... exposed and eternalised; though you would wish them only to end.
So, in a futile attempt to repent, you remind yourself of a reality well known; though you would wish it, not your own: "We are friends, just friends... and nothing more."
So you brace yourself, content to never show, those emotions that you have buried in an unmarked grave; so that they will never know.
Lo, you embrace your hell, content to type the words that you cannot tell; love is the blurred line, between heaven and hell.
Love is the lullaby, that you sing to yourself; an elixir of poison mercury, that you drink for your health.
Perhaps you have tasted of this cup, both bitter and cruel; perhaps you have seen the infinite line, that divides the two of you. Now, having both tasted and seen Love, what will you do?
