No matter how many hearts you draw
or how pretty you write her name...
No matter how distressfully lovely you look
or what meaninglessly beautiful music is playing...
Nothing feels like this.

Small empty fragments of a beautiful life are nothing but pieces to a bigger
picture, a bigger puzzle.
Nothing but a loveless life. Nothing but the blind leading the blind.
Nothing but another broken dream. Nothing but a lovely tragedy. Nothing but
something uncomprehendable.
But who's to say?
Who's to know?
What's this life?

The things we don't understand are usually the most worth while.
 
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