Is this love? Or is this lust?
What is this I feel?
Is it fair? Is it just?
Are these feelings real?
I fear they are an illusion; made from my eyes
My soul deceives me, it believes your lies
No way you’re that perfect, no way you’re that pretty
I can not believe what you are doing to me.
The Icognito Writer: Illusion. Woohoo! Three down and five thousand more to go. We’re getting there! One day!