I.
And to all of them,
you were but
cigarette breaths
and endless voids
and a hopeless heart
and a damaged soul.

II.
And to me, you were
reckless roses
and lips that taste like
twilight skies;
you were a soul beautiful
in all its bleakness.

III.
But now you’re the north
and I’m reduced
to a broken compass.
And maybe after all,
they were right
and I simply never was.