Freewrite - Not Yourself

Dead of love, dead of night,
Candles in our sleep, passion's alight.
And everything's still and silent,
As I crush my lips against your scent.
We think we know love, and that they lie,
What we think we know will break us - make us cry.
And you never tell the truth, to anyone,
Because you're only open to a someone.

And that's not even yourself.