"His love was like
falling asleep on an unmade bed,
Like we won't care
by the end of an exhausting day".

"His love was like
those white-lies that never hurt,
the faint rainbow that can't be
photographed,
the soft giggle of an asylum
patient,
that expired gift voucher
in your high school slam book".

55 years into it;
She just smiles and says,
"If that's not love,
I don't know what is".

She lives with her '70s condescending mom,
And her Gods are nonbelievers.
She sulks, swears 'n spits in air
Squandering in profound style
As she wears plaid shirts to
Jimmy Choos,
"feeds her cat, eats her dog",
Keeps a job, quits on true love,
Flirts in no faith with
the guys in the gym,
overlooks men at the bar,
Smiles at the kid in the park,
Laughs at celebrities' mishap,
Sleeps to Indie pop Rock
post two whisky shots.
But hey, she's too far from
any breakdown.