I want someone to fill the void inside me

Pour milk down my throat while you

Stand there and lie to me

Sloshing around my organs,

It spoils inside of me

I discard the waste. I

Love that you lied to me

You plucked my fruit and claimed

There was never a tree

You weighed it out, but you

Don't believe in gravity

Does it taste like your sentiments?

Or is it sweet?

Because if not, the two of us

Must both be cheats

My ground was watered with

Dishonesty and fear

Yet I expected to have beared

Honey-crisp frontiers

Instead, I'll fall and get bruised

Those are the sweetest parts,

However,

Which reveal the truth

The howls. The swish. The crack.

I grew to admire that hatred in your eyes. They cut me in a way that made me feel like my pain was worth something. They made the color of love leak off my pale palette. It served as a reminder to me– a reminder, which I planned to recreate.

The howls. The swish. The crack.

I considered alternatives, yet none rose higher than this apartment complex. You read my love letter. The howls silenced your plea. The swish- your grasp almost saved me. The crack. My color of love painted the concrete canvas.