That's Why I Am The Ace Of Hearts
A charasmatic hand to gentle to refuse. A brush of their lips on your cheek. A hand gently running down your back. Overwhelming, to even the most perfect of the pretties. His breath, slow and steady moving chills out and down your spine. He says he loves you, but how can he. He's not with you any more. And suddenly your hair turns grey, your skin wrinkles over, and your breaths drift farther apart until they stop. Just the thought of him still lingers in your head, the image of your love handed to another, you feel yourself slipping. Falling, your eyes shoot open, just a dream, dream of something never to happen or already done and what's to come.
That's why I am the Ace Of Hearts, my heart's walls can't be beaten by any king
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The Complex : A Writing Guild
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