they say that pictures tell a thousand words,
for every lie you tell, another curse
that you’ll never be enough for them
you’ll never make it to the end
because this photograph you gave me,
you hold onto my memories
it shines like a star in the night sky
if every story had an ending of its own,
why is mine cut off
by the white lines that surround the story
of my life
in a photograph
does this make sense probably not L
