You Talk, I Listen. We Are Broken.

You talk of love, you talk of hate; you talk of things to which I cannot relate.
You know me, yet you know nothing and pretend with a smile.
Your fantasy has gone too far, and now neither of us are without scars.

I talk of mystery, I talk of suspense; I talk of things without recompense.
I know little, and I accept my place without a fight.
My wings are broken, I am defeated; and it is only with you that I feel completed.

I will never understand you, nor you me; but neither of us will ever again be free.
We are stuck together, like it or not, to the end.
I only hope you come to love me, as I do you; and I hope that your love remains true.

We are broken together, for we are the ones who broke each other.
And our love will never dwindle between us, nor will it ever go to another.