this is
fiction
and nothing else.

you and me,
twisted by pretty words
with senseless meaning.

laying down,
restless nights,
tranquil walks
with sober souls.

holding your hand,
a four leaf clover
stretched onto yours,
you kissed mine.

waiting for the howl
of misfortunes,
i clung onto
your kaleidoscopic smile,
you stayed.

but,
time and time again,
this is fiction
and nothing else.