Nothing of it is beautiful

It is all meaningless really

While the story stays the same

Only the characters change.

 

One is stuck in the past

Where we had what we wanted

Because all we wanted was what we had

Within one another.

 

Another likes the mystery

He shrouds himself in silence

Quieting only the voices

That tell him

Maybe he should stop

Playing.

 

One has her heart

That he carefully looks at

From time to time

But refuses to take.

 

I smile as I walk around

Because none of them are close.

They are all so tragically far away

It is like they are a ghost.

They say what they want

But never what they must

The one thing they have in common

Is clearly my lack of trust.

 

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