After all the lies,
What am I to believe?
I followed only what
I wanted to see.
...
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love is the continual act of dying, and being reborn... of lies and truths, of sins and forgiveness, of falling down and getting back up... but, is it love?
I love this poem. We would rather have torment that the emptiness
Hearts are vulnerable and imperfect. Knowing one's own self is the greatest challenge. You expressed the conflict in a sharp and pointed way. Good write.