?Never amounts to anything,
Besides loose smiles, fraudulent talk, and grins that cheeks can’t even hold.
Or so they say.
Fate was cemented between the eyelids,
And coursed as a river through veins
And supplied oxygen to cauterized veins
Never amounts to anything,
Besides goosebumps, and bombshells,
And the truth tucked gently into the night,
Where a loner slinks toes and knuckles
Into cold sheets,
Praying for warmth again with atheists hands.
There was always meaning held,
Regurgitated at every encounter.
As if loose smiles finally broke their seams.