How many nights have
we fallen asleep on 
this couch? Finally 
crashing after another 
long night out. From the
first page, we were always 
something strange, every 
story has two sides, the case 
of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; 
your moods and my temperament: 
hell-bent or heaven-sent.

Taking our time,
no end in sight,
always picking up right 
where we left off,
fingers finding middle C 
on piano keys, but our story 
was never so black-and-white.
Without you, I couldn't exist, 
shredded pieces of my heart and
soul held together by a 
single paper clip.

Secrets spilling out as
confessions turning the 
wheels of a new story
invention; waking up to
discover we were the experiment
with undeniable chemistry: 
an exercise in love or trust, 
the possibility of intimacy, 
between you and me.

We were always something strange
from the first page.

We look different in
the light without all
the smoke and mirrors;
I won't travel anywhere
without you by my side--
it's you, you're always
there. Those nights replay
over again in my

Woke up in a story I've
never read, I didn't write.  

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