Why are you so certain that you will love me always, as you do tonight?
You say these feelings will never cease,
You’ll never leave,
Never make me cry.

Caught up in this moment,
You let your soul get drunk on Infatuation.
In your lustful inebriation you have never been more certain of any one thing,
Desperately trying to conquer and consume,
To gratify this need for me in this moment,
You are compelled to offer me Forever.
And my darling, you have convinced yourself
Of your ability to deliver it.

You wonder and you frown at my cynicism,
My inability to accept your assertions.
You think me cold, guarded,
Damaged from the wars of my past.
If only I’d believe your words,
You think they could repair me,
Make my edges softer;
Make me easier to love.

Your mistake is in offering me words.
The words that you know caress my soul, comfort me, destroy me, intoxicate me.
But in love, words are redundant;
In love you must show me.
Your words are just units of sound
Syllables converging to make some meaning.
They sound so pretty, my love
But would you die for ‘pretty’?

And what if I tell you that for every promise you make,
I will pick at it;
Challenge it;
Smash it;
Push you to prove it.

I will be relentless
Until it is broken anyway.

And I am proved right.

Would you still promise me Forever?

Or can you love me knowing that all we will ever have is this moment?


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