He wasn't the perfect husband and it hurt to admit.
He didn’t do the things I wanted him to,
yet he steered clear of the things he shouldn't;
This would be any woman's joy.
It was the crevices, the unsmooth surfaces
which caused me to strike a deal with my conscience,
To come to the conclusion that the fantasy I'd dreamed up
was simply that:a distant dream.
I hushed my broken heart a lullaby,
it seemed to have quelled her thirst for blood,
even though the vampire she was longed for warmth to enter her stretching capillaries.
I'll be content without the beating heart
it's not impossible to be heartless,
I know because I've been functioning perfectly all along;
it's just the fuel that's missing.
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