Our Love

When will we admit 

Our love is no more than something long past; 

Of our love, all that’s left is a whit. 

Our love is no more than something long past, 

So why do we continue to hold onto something we know we can’t have 

And what we know won’t last? 

So why do we continue to hold onto something we know we can’t have 

Is what I ask myself when I wake next to you now, 

Hiding what I feel in my heart, which you endlessly halve..

Is what I ask myself when I wake next to you now 

Wrong to ask; 

Even still, it is no longer something I can disavow.

Wrong to ask,

I ask it every day, 

For my love for you has become no more than a task.

Both of us wishing to leave, yet still, with each other, we stay; 

When will we admit 

That our love for each other has long gone away? 

Of our love, all that’s left is a whit.