Unrequited love, never dies.
Pure in body, and harmless in intent.
Justified, as if it were platonic.
It's a phantom.
Thoughts will stay in your head and as spoken words have no where to go.
Wouldn't it be great if we could all embrace unrequited love?
Then we wouldn't have to depend on someone else for such happiness.
Only your own feelings to trust, but why does it hurt as if it were two, conflicting?
Heights and depths, or vice-versa.
Why do we need to be loved back?
Love, returned or not, is still love.
One flows outwards, the other, only inside.