why must we lie to ourselves,
believing in something we wish and hope is true,
we make up this dream that there is this one true person out there,
not knowing that we only say this to comfort our discomfort that they don't exist,
or maybe its just me,
my luck in love is worse then ever before,
could it be from all my let downs
which i began to just feel that 'true love' is a false dream,
or is it a fact that we all tend to deny,
what ever it may be,
i stand on the fact that love is in fact risky and parasitic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem