I walked down
Lovers Dead End today,
always muttering
to myself—
as if a friend
listens to my
broken voice
but is never there
to comfort.

Each step
drops deeper.
I see the cracked
cement roads
littered with
remnants—
fragments of laughter,
moments I cherished
brew bitter—

Flickering streetlights
of past arguments,
and forest vines of
neglect tighten
around my throat.
A reminder for
tangled hearts
I won’t forget—

But my voice chokes,
left speechless as
I trip on curved
grounds of regret,
scrape my knees
and shatter my
essence.

Lovers Dead End—
where the past still
breathes in fog,
where the cold
morning air lingers.
Where we fell apart
and melt like
strawberry ice cream
on the sidewalk—
where I found you.