Love of my life
Monster of my own creation
I think the devil’s wife
Penned a lover’s definition
Love is happiness
World’s most prevalent illusion
Frustration and helplessness
Fruits of beautiful self-delusion
Broken hearts occur in pairs
And self-abomination
Darkness juxtaposed in layers
Of pretty pink infatuation
If you and I met on a bus
And struck up a conversation
I’d have liked you and you me, thus
Free from the poison of adulation
But I weighed you against
A free woman’s comprehension
And you failed to paint
On me a picture of perfection
Is there anything left?
Not even civil words of salutation
‘Cause we cannot leave and we cannot stay
Opposite trains at the same station
