Can you hear me?

I dream of Lancelot and Guinevere,

Hope of an epic romance between Aragorn and Arwen,

Like the legendary love and sacrife of Romeo and Juliette,

But my love was not great,

It died halfway,

Tattered, wilted, shattered.

Unlike Lancelot, you did not fight for me. 

And unlike Juliette, I will not die for you.

Instead of lying in a bed of white roses,

I run across a field of paper flowers,

Screaming red butterflies,

...

To an echo of silence.

I left

And you let me go.

Leaving you granted me wings,

Like angels; that I feel that I can soar,

And as I flew freely higher,

The sun is unforgivingly dazzling,

Scorching, and burning

I wonder

Am I numbed from the pain by euphoria?

Or am I slowly withering?

I can't tell them apart

Because the view from up high is too great to give up.

And here I am again.