Betrayal, they say,
Hurts worse than a cut.
The bitter words,
That aim at nothing but
The sheer weakness,
Of emotion and love
Of hordes of lies beneath,
And friendly smiles above.
Fear, they say,
Haunts worse than the past.
It grips, it claws,
It tears you apart
And paints everything,
A black and a white
A shade of lonely too,
That holds you tight.
But conditional love, I say,
Mocks worse than all.
It leaves you alone,
The second you fall
With only memories,
Of a dream so fake
A trail of broken hearts,
It leaves in its wake.
