But only when I'm being honest.
And if you want me to be honest now,
My love is in complete earnest.
Every moment I imagine without her,
Is a wayward adventure without an end,
Continuing a life of awkward endeavours,
Only succeeding when I truly pretend.
What's a life without someone else to witness it?
Without a new life to prove its earnestness?
Without the trials that life always provides,
Whether in love or in complete loneliness?
And it's alright,
Why bother ask about where you never went?
Do you think you would be a different person,
If, as the same, you chose a different intent?
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