We are but strangers, disguised as temporary love.

Cloaked even from ourselves as we enter the room

with intentions uncertain and fall into quiet madness.

For in this moment, we play at the peak of a pedestal

we never knew we built.

Marbled with projections of the holes

we have within ourselves that we hide behind.

For up here, we see only what we want to see—

through guarded eyes and jaded hearts.

But while blinded,

we can taste our expiration date like spoiled milk–

as the timer descends on this temporary love.

Destroying the illusion of connection

when our welcome’s out-worn,

and we are poured down the sink…

with no one to blame but ourselves.

For we treat people like choices

while stuck at a fork between 2 paths—

Lost in false comparisons

as if we have the right to choose.

Until we reach the bottom of the drain,

and can finally see the pedestal

from which we fell for what it was—

a temporary platform consumed by this

generation of vapor…dissolving before it forms.