It was my mistake,

I thought that if we looked
like #goals and talked
like #goals, that it would
negate how it felt on the

looking out from the inside
I see all these hungry faces
and I want to scream - I’M
HUNGRY TOO - but no one ever
hears me over the double taps
on our new desperate plea - OH
how can I tell we’re meant to be if
my Instagram doesn’t notify me?

But I was never looking for a home,
I was looking for a hole to hide in;
nothing romantic about that but
when you know how to make
broken things sound poetic, you
forget life isn’t actually poetry;
you forget that lines are meant
to be read between and you
don’t control the ebb and flow.

You forget that there’s depth
between pages and filters and
the perfect caption doesn’t
negate a perfect storm.

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