Angels.

Is that what you are?

Or are you just a devil?

I can never know for sure. You have so many faces, that it's no longer clear what you are.

Or who.

My heart is confused.

It scars.

It pounds like a drum.

Love is not easy.

But why does it have to be shattering?

The pieces no longer fit.

Not with the jaded cracks.

But it won't stop trying.

To make this work.

Even as the vines start to unravel.

And the wounds are unveiled.

The end is coming.

For you.

For me.

Us.

So why does it still shatter?

Why does the river flow?

For the joy never comes.

For the pain, comes as a tidal-wave. Sweeping out my heart.

With a hole that will never fill.

Never become even again.

Was it right untangle the web?

To disconnect what we had?

It's hazy.

A thickness of black.

Two roads.

Await the broken.

Only one holds the flutter.

The rich sweetness.

Is it worth the vinegar?

The stinging of bitterness.

To continue to cut our hands deep, picking up the pieces?

Or am I the only one?

Your faces are no longer clear.

To know where the truth lays.

We may never know the end of this story.

Or if there was one.

Because the haze.

Is too thick.

For the heart to see the roads.

To our reveal.