the lines disconnect,
one is broken
one is innocent.
the house she lives in
tears wallpaper from its roots,
while her house
smells like the finest fruit.
her face is irrelevant
walking across streets,
while the other smiles
and looks at her feet.
one loves the other
one is still clueless,
while the lines cut
and both are in ruins.
she didn't exist
before she met her,
and her life was in shambles
before their first words.
they didn't know how fast
time would relapse,
but soon friendship
came to a close.
no matter what happened,
they were always in false hope.
while one hides away
the other sprouts free,
without recognition
of how all this came to be.
she sits in her room at home
swimming in daydreams,
as her missing piece
sways with another short
"maybe."