Generic

an empty echo, as she nears our place, 
aloof alone, she approaches, 
half grin spread across her pale face 
a deep sorrow, through her eyes is shown 
the type common of those who follow the anti-flow 
the groups smiles, long since ceased 
save the one belonging to me 
mindless were they anyway, superficial. 
absolutly no harm done. 
from smiles to knives there tongues are sharp. 
sliced her flesh, deep wounds all round, 
no blood is bled, her composure sound 
long since dried out. 
she looks this way, 
our eyes meet, 
is this love?

Is this love