You peel one off everytime.
And yet it still exists; sublime.
You take off a piece when you try to talk it through,
Failing with every screaming "I love you".
One flakes off when you try to stop the pain,
Walking cold and alone in the burning rain.
You sacrifice a part when you are thrown against the wall,
And after the violence is over, and you are left there to fall.
You leave a piece behind when an apology is said,
Even though the blame is his, and his spirit is long dead.
You save a piece for later as you leave him behind,
Knowing you'll return to his heartless mind.
You keep one locked away in the confines of his soul,
Knowing it is so dark you will never find it at all.
You watch as it lessens everytime.
Your heart, your life, no longer sublime.
You wish that they would somehow stay,
But the layers of love have been taken away.
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