i'll give you a book of one hundred poems
all worse than the one before it
i'll give countless lines about
his fingers in my hair
and my hand in his
and the way his breath would
tickle my neck
cause an earthquake inside of me
and i'll give you all the lovey dovey
all the happily ever after
and all the heartbreak
that always follows
that always gives us something
to hold on to
i'll give you hundreds
i'll give you thousands
and it'll all be a ******* lie

you won't know any better
no one ever knows any better