Gardens

When they tell you they love you,
Push down the butterflies
Do not let the stars in their eyes move you,
They are mere reflections,
They will show you a sunshine smile,
Its glow will not warm you,
But will trick you into thinking you stand in daylight,

They have a garden of hearts,
And when you wither you will not be mourned,
You will be buried in reminders,
Phantom kisses,
The feeling of arms around you when you lie awake at night,
Stuffed animals holding every heartbeat you lost track,
You will find no rest in your pillows,
It will remind you of late nights together,
There will be no energy in your coffee,
It will remind you of sips stolen with sly smiles,

When they say they love you,
Do not believe them,
They will leave you dreaming of what that once meant,
You will search restlessly for that feeling again,
You will not find it.
The closest feeling will be in wall sockets,
In another body found in dark rooms,
In lightning striking twice,
Or a double rainbow stretching across the clouds,
It will kill you to find,
And you will be fine with that.

Do not be mistaken with all their flowers,
This is not a garden, it is a cemetery.