The voice inside her mind,
Is screaming with passion from burning fires blind.
Stabbing at a conscious already aching,
From fears and predictions of healed hearts breaking.
Dear girl, is it wise to jump from a cliff, with no sworn safety?
Should you be walking on water without a solid placing?
I see how the words on his breath tickle in your ear,
Things said a thousand times, just not quite loud enough for you to hear.
Theirs is the story of the romantic wooing the cynic,
A grim fairy tale, all there is too it.
Will he smooth her edges? Or shall they grow more jagged?
Fearing the later she yearns to pull away.
Confusion clouds as she holds tightly,
To fantasies to perfect to end alrightly.
Watch the smile grow on her face,
As he falls a little too perfectly into place,
Leaving a print to large to ignore,
Filling in spaces ripped away in times of gore.
Forgetting facts she knows she knows to make a blast.
When will she be reminded that things don't last?
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