A broken heart in a box. 

Grief sounds like shoes walking away from the scene of the crime.

There are keyboard melodies that slowly fade out.

Paint a smile on your face. 

Ignore the false sirens of pleading.

Love is hidden in your pain; love that they do not deserve. 

Take down the box with God in it. 

He is love you’ve always had. 

A kaleidoscope of faux love. 

And dead stardust.

Petals and love potions always for show. 

What their love really is; is a black hole of nothingness. 

Their colorless dusk is really rusty tin that leaves you cut.

Deep cuts every time; that is their truth.