she loves me, she loves me not…

pick the petals till the answer is right

it should be so easy for me, easier than it was for you to forget what was, because i didn’t ask for a second chance or for documentation of ownership, only to discover, your heart wasn’t your own… and i was tired of being alone. winter turned into spring one day and soon that will pass as well and summer will reign supreme over our flesh and feeling. the cigarette is still burning, these lungs are still breathing, but is this heart actually beating? are the feelings that i feel now truly my own, or are they the side effect of society? all this beauty dying in me… while you’re lying to me, lips on love, forget god above…. this is the devil that you’ve been dreaming of… our selfish desire for love.

eric w. desselle