Such a lovely fortune.
Tempted to believe it’s a lie.
How could it be true if this life is damned with emptiness?
Isn’t love a lie?
An elixir concocted by some scheming mind who knew making a penny off a warm, fuzzy heart is easier than coaxing candy from a baby.
That pedantic pronunciation of three little words which alone mean nothing.
I am selfish.
Love is a lie.
You are no one.
Why must it be a lie?
Let a cookie say what it wants?
You alone are enough.
Even if I do not know your face yet.
Hurry, my dear, hurry to me.
The fires of hell stir ever nearer.
Nothing but the best for the ghost that stole my heart.
I am insane.
Love need not be, it just is.
You are everyone.
Caution to the wind.
There is no turning back.
Ease this steed of wonder onward.
We are plain.
We are love.