Sweetheart® compliments
with words like “Be Mine”
(like for once I’m chosen
for something- anything)
taste chalky- synthetically sweet
Never satisfy for long.
So they are ground up
pulverized into weak bricks
mortared with watery confidence
to build a castle of diluted pastels.
-A place to meet the people-
Brick by brick it
almost looks real
Sparkles in the sun
not noticing the Storm
in the distance- Fear-
melting, melting my castle
when it comes
(and it always comes)
makes me lonely
-without all of the people-
I can’t see them through the rain.
I assume they’ve gone…
almost hope so.
I don’t want them to see
the soggy mess that once was
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