What if this isn’t real?
It could all be a façade,
Simply a mirage in the desert
Or movement in the corner of your eye.
What if my heart didn’t beat this way?
Either not at all or too much.
Would it still beat for you,
Or would it lock itself away again?
What if the sky wasn’t blue?
Would it still remind me of you?
Or would it fade into darkness
Every hour or every day.
Remember when I said I hated poetry? Yeah, I changed my mind.