Silent recriminations on the phone,

Hurt looks in the hall,

Fresh wounds in a heart torn by uncertainty.

What do you do when love isn't enough?



"I love you," is an easy thing to say

Words are breaths of air



Love doesn't show you how to act,

Nor tell you what to say.

Love is the great puppeteer

Bending all to its sway,

Gathering all into its great dance.

But fall out of step

And the strings get tangled

And not even the puppet-master can unwind them.



Trust is a thing slowly given, and once lost, gone forever.



There's no medicine for a broken heart,

No glue for a shattered trust.

Love can fill you with sorrow, remorse, regret,

A need to help, to heal, to undo wrongs,

But when it comes to the how?

Nothing



All sound and fury, told by an idiot.



Mortal men who make mistakes

Are fragile things for love,

Easily broken.