Distinction of Love

Hate you?
How could I? I wish it was that easy.
The pure distinction of love that we have is merely nothing more than fiction and facades.
Lies, I'll take them- I have no choice
Molly- I know about her, and your intamacy with Her, I know about that too
Why lie? Little, white, pooling, lies of love.

Action, will I take it? How could I- but I will.
Crawling back hands and knees to the fiction fairytale facade- open up.
I now realize I am more pure than you allowed me to be, more pure than you wanted to admit I was, I am.

Let's erase- start from square one- although part of me wants to cut the last piece of paper.
Confusion induldged in dillusion, our pathetic distinction of love.

Set me free? Please...