Naive

Talking on the phone, late nights, 

Hopes and dreams quietly whispered transported by phone lines. 

Grateful for a kindred soul, 

Perfect worlds created safely from reality 

providing the sweetest relief.

The truth is that bubbles eventually burst

Leaving a bitter aftertaste. 

Adulthood teasing out  the very last bits of wishful thinking 

You want to know the truth now because there is no use for pretense. 

Abruptly you find truth glaring at your face, 

There is no hiding from the truth now 

But you find it surprising how easy it is to shirk off perfection and run in the opposite direction.

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