The change in loving someone is somehow a great way to kill the time.
Because, when your love for someone is falling apart, there are no time in this world would run your clock.
The time, that still exist, is only a countdown to your self destruction.
Destructing yourself, piece by piece.
Leave you no chance to put back all your shattered self.
There is no safe way to give all your other half.
To another living soul, to another ticking heart.
As two same red hollow standing for each other in time of stumble and fall.
The wing spread wide open, but no flight could taken off.
As one most decent feather is turning to venom.
The venom that will take it all.
And kill the pain.
The pain of loving.
The pain of suicidal.
Loving, suicidal.
Because, when your love for someone is falling apart, there are no time in this world would run your clock.
The time, that still exist, is only a countdown to your self destruction.
Destructing yourself, piece by piece.
Leave you no chance to put back all your shattered self.
There is no safe way to give all your other half.
To another living soul, to another ticking heart.
As two same red hollow standing for each other in time of stumble and fall.
The wing spread wide open, but no flight could taken off.
As one most decent feather is turning to venom.
The venom that will take it all.
And kill the pain.
The pain of loving.
The pain of suicidal.
Loving, suicidal.
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