Love Looks Like

You were a splinter in my mind that I could not retrieve

I gave my heart away
To the first girl I met,
I was capable of better women
And she, better men.

We sang like angels
In the flower-filled garden,
We were lovers yet
Under this illusion, dead.

To pretend – to hope,
Dance, wed, and dream,
To spill away better things
Drink up, my dear –ine.

You gave me back
My heart, broken
You thought it
Like a gift, friend
And had you not wished for better,
We’d’ve settled to the end.

Every girl since
Is a repetition of the dream,
Where every girl is
A flower-filled disease.