years ago,
when I was alone
my chest never felt heavy
and my heart never felt dread
my mind was always full of endless dreams
of the fairy tales I had read
pictures painted without the slightest of bad
but with every breath I breathe
from then till now
the pictures I had are slowly erased
as I shield them,
as I try to save them,
they disappear within my touch
I watch them with tear stained cheeks
and sore eyes from a life time’s worth of dreams
and reality struck
the stories of first love aren't true.