You know nothing of love.
All the pretty things you’ve said
Were just fluff around your brain
Sweet poison injected into her veins
With no substance or depth
But slow death.
You know nothing of love
Of waking up to her smile
Of building life by her side
Of supporting each other’s dreams
And her joyous heartbeat
Under your fingertips
The only genuine bit
In your imagined reality.
You know nothing of love
Because the only love you know
Is for yourself.
Stay there,
King.