By: Shelbi Henny

Spiraling into the truth that I turned myself into this 
tears building into the monster that stays out late
and counts in the lonely hearts
that toys with emotions and breaks the innocent
calling the worst to be the best days 
crazy how the only romance found is the foolish stories
we create
but in reality we sleep in the desperate fingertips
that point the blame at love never existing 
in the cold streets in formalities 
that bind me into believe in chronicles 
that suffocate me in ripped sheets
sweat and sweet kisses
laying in arms that never missed it
cute names that only reminisces
who tie the bows and knots that
curl deep in our chest
of frustration 
that it never exist
scrolling the pictures
collecting on things we missed
what happens if the cause never
became real 
and we ride on love songs to play our hearts to sleep
as we only see what its like 
though we never feel 
how deep