You were looking through my recent Google search history weren't you?

That's fine. I predicted you would.

You see what I want you to see;

Those iceberg eyes sink deep into me,
and the anchor is all this misunderstanding.

There was never any trust to begin with.
No real love. At least not like the **** we consume during
our daily binge watching. So drama ensues; the only thing we can count on. It turns the pale skin walls into crimson red curtain calls. Threats to leave fill the midnight air. Someone falls down to their knees, prepared to crawl. There are stains of tears that plague the carpet floor. *****
on the piano tucked in the corner of the living room. It's a coffee-caramel coated body that's seen bitter days. How sweet things were
before the necessary change.

We're still here aren't we?

There are fools that believe it grows on you;

I don't think so.

one just gets used to how awful it all really is.