Thy love is not a tragedy, it is that we met. Shall I compare thee to a ghost?, because you were the love that haunted. You were the kiss that stole so much of me...￼
Oh heart, Oh heart where art thy so? You leaveth me, broken and alone. Would agony not hurt if thy called it a budding￼ rose? That is how love feels, beguiled by pros.
What if? My sweet innocence had never met your devilish, manipulating soul...￼ What if Romeo has just stayed home? Does love not die in the golden streaks of morrow? Foolish feelings sober in my sorrow.
Kiss my poisoned lips so love will love me, bitter sweet. I was easy, So cheap love did appease me. ￼ You were my apothecary, a high to ease me. Madness never leaves me. .
Romeo: She does not love me.