You dyed my hair in motel sinks, the mirror cracked and small,

Said, “We’re just two stray chemicals that don’t play by the law.”

You carved a crown into the dust, then kissed me like a dare

Said, “Some people build cathedrals, we just burn down the air.”

Your voice was full of static, like an old cassette half-spun,

You held a knife like poetry, said, “Love should weigh a ton.”

We whispered through the sirens, high and paper-thin,

You laughed into my ribs and asked, “Do monsters ever win?”

We slept like secrets that no one should know.

We kissed like bombs that don’t need to blow.

We swore we’d make it through the mess,

But every vow just screamed confess

Some love is just too close to show.

The sheets were stiff with candle wax, the air was sweet and sour,

You timed your pills to TV noise, your breath at every hour.

I watched you drift like basement smoke, still clutching to my name

And prayed the walls would break before the needle ever came.

They found us like a photograph that no one dared to take.

Still smiling like we won the war with every tooth a fake.

You said, “If I don’t make it, you’d better burn this bed.”

I lit the match, but stayed instead.

We slept like secrets that no one should know.

We kissed like bombs that don’t need to blow.

We swore we’d make it through the mess,

But every vow just screamed confess

Some love is just too close to show.

We loved like sirens waltzing on a fuse.

We held on tight enough to lose.

They said we were a crash too slow

But we were just the last to know.

Some stories don’t get to choose.

Some love just lives in Room 100 news.