Wrong.
We were always
So wrong.
Every piece of me and you
Was sketched with dull pencils.
Every move we made was punished.
I was the girl who questioned you,
And you were the boy
who filled by mind with poetry.
tragedy in every sentence,
Melodrama seizing our sanity,
Till we shattered.
That's the thing about disasters,
They always leave a little bit of debris behind.