in reality

there was no us.

from the beginning i should have seen

i should have felt it in the air

tasted it on my tongue

that you only whispered sweet nothings into my ear

and i believed every letter

every word, every phrase

that spilled like blood from your lips 

and into my ear they filled every crevice

of my broken heart. 

in reality

you never loved me 

you never meant what you said

but in reality

in this painful, surreal reality,

maybe 

just maybe

hey, here's a thought:

what if we weren't meant to be after all?

am i too old to believe in fate?

or has it been laughing at me all along? 

i write poems for you

bleed words for you

sing nothings for you

and you don't even look my way

who's the fool?