You wouldn’t look me in the eye
I knew that it was done
your voice was cold and distant
somehow you had won

As if winning meant anything
when both of us are lost
lost in the hollow silence
of our private holocaust

When dreams are made of pixie dust
and love is just a fantasy
how can my heart survive this rotting rust
when there is nothing left of you and me

I threw my heart against the wall
kneeling on the stone cold floor
I may bleed out before a hint of hope
comes crashing through the door

I want to feel something, anything
I stumble and I hurt, I crawl
when love crumbles into nothing
to feel is the cruelest fate of all

It’s Over (a poem)
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