They call it falling in love
Your feet slipping from under you
And tunnel-vision to the future
You think “how is this a fall?”
As your senses slip
And everything is perfection
Or something similar
They call it head-over-heels
Bending over backwards
Love is compromise, right?
You get your head on straight
At least from your point of view
A little to the left
A little less you every day
They call it a broken heart
You understand why love is a fall
Saw the ground you walked on
Close up as you fell
Every crack led you to leave it behind
But now that it’s gone
It looks…almost perfect
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