Why must you constanly bring me pain and pleasure every moment were together? But every moment were apart I need to hear and feel you near. I feel that were so right together, but everything between us goes wrong everyday. Could I love you? Could you love me? Could we be? Could? Should? It's broken.
Broken. Torn. Ripped. Seperated.
Everything broken can not always easily be fixed. We can't be fixed. We won't be fixed. I give. You give. We gave our all.
Boken is what we are and continue to be, though I never really knew how you felt about me. You never loved me for me from the start. You like a mere image of me, that will one day tarnish. Beauty you see, but not really me. Not me. Just a still of what I could be. A picture of me.
Broken.
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