Elvie my dark Lord
Magic is not real
We feel till can't feel
Or we numb what Is real
Burn my roses
Lick my ashes
Make myself disappear
Part of me feels like it isn't here
Time and space
We're drifting at bay
Though you cannot stay
Elvie my dark lord
Can't we play?

Love is like a flower
It can be so delicate
And when you are seduced    
with its beauty and delicacy
You will want to pluck it.
But plucking, in essence,
Kills the flower
Love is different.
Love is leaving it be;
Letting it flourish
and growing with the flower.
Love is watering the flower
when it needs it.
Love is letting the flower
Live among its kind
if it desires it.
Love is appreciating,
Love is beautiful
but when one tries to control
or mold someone into an idea,
this is when love dies

Don't tell me; you love me, you miss me,or you care about me.... if any of it was true, you wouldn't have to say it... And I don't need to; hear it, or read it, or stand for it.... So I won't.