Your fingertips were like brushes and I was a blank canvas.
You were clay and I would sculpt you with my tongue.
We were both terrible at art.

We listened to the same music.
We never sang the same songs.

You were a book and I wanted to read you cover to cover.
I spilled my words like coffee and your pages were stuck together.
I was a book you wanted to read.
You never got past the first few chapters.


When did you stop taking sugars with your coffee?
I started smoking again.


This is well-deserved punishment for trying.
We mistook war for slaughter.
False hope was every battle won.
Fate was playing chess with the passage of time.
The game ended in a stalemate.