We paint things
With hash tags
And love songs
It was just
Two people,
Someone loving,
The other being loved
Someone giving, adoring,
The other, receiving and being adored.
And they called that love
And when she grew tired of it
Cold and empty
They couldn’t understand why
Because everything from their side had been great.
I held her in my arms
And she stayed there for a moment
And asked me
Why is it
That we always seem to arrive too late …
Dashed against the earth
Like reality
All the colour
All the pain
We never wake up…
Until it’s too late …
I said I wasn’t sure
And for once
I really wasn’t
Or maybe
I didn’t want to be


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