This isn't something you got out of the fairytale book
None of this is fiction.
It's all truly stated in its own general way.
You breathe it in, it goes right through.
None of it is sheltered.
It creeps by you so hauntingly, you barely see the glare.
Admiring yet faithless.
The gentle kiss is hardly enough.
Do you get it now?
Dig deeper to the core, that's where it sleeps.
Wanting, but not having, you have to grasp it tight.
Shattered into pieces from what nothing was before.
A couple of marks, but they all fade.
Changing very quickly, it will not be stopped.
Having the high tolerance comes with a painful price.
But watching it crack down is so relieving.
It's lifted off your chest.
Shamelessly looking back to absolutely nothing.
Pushing away its oxygen and sneaking past the hate.
Striving to complete it, restoring all the fate.
