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Whose love is it going to be?


Love will make me happy again,

But I won't let it approach me.

I'm aware of this.

Love is perilous, it transforms you.

It's a life I've created for myself.

My errors belong to me.

I'm hoping for some familiarity.

I'm hoping to be forgiven.

Someone else is knocking on my door while I'm at work.

With a lot of warmth.

What am I trying to get away from?

And here's why:

Isn't this just what I'd wished for my entire life?

I'm doing everything I can to make this happen.

And now I feel compelled to discard everything.

What have I been chasing, exactly?


It's sometimes only a small hook,

And it's slowly giving way to vast depths below,

A deep fall, I've always thought,

It transforms you into a bird with wings,

There's also the pleasant breeze.

Will the bone-crushing fall be worth it,

That's something I'm not interested in.

Because I want to be happy.

My thirst will not be quenched by pleasure, but by love.

Whose love will it be this time?

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