fake concepts like love

i'm starting to think you're not real. maybe more of a ripple in the water, a figure that disappears when i turn back, squint. my love is tangible, but where does it go if there is no destination? thing is, it piles. count down, i'll explode in 3, 2, 1 without a source for passion. saturation drops when the pond clears. i've always loved black and white, but that was by choice. i know it's just my mind— horrid thing. will you do me a solid and rip it from my skull? kick and punch it, i'll owe you one. as if i needed chain when your voice is my blood.

xo my lovelies
fran