There will be no tomorrow for us never have been never would be. Yet this senseless craving doesn’t end. I was complete without you. I was happy and content. With you I am ripped apart with a dire need of your existence to keep me sane. This isn’t love. It can’t possibly be. This wretchedness is no love. The constant fear of being plunged into a niche of isolation. The piercing through this hollow ball of pain.You don’t complete me like they said.. You only engender a fatal craving of your existence. A sense that without you nothing else will ever matter.How foolish. One person changes nothing. Yet you pull me into the world of illusions. Hopelessly believing that the colours around me will turn to a shade of blues and blacks in your absence.


2 thoughts on “Deceitful

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