words by dominic riccitello

walls higher than
the moon
i twirl under
brick by brick
we dismantel
things i used to have
now with a bit of insecurity
we talk of things
what red means
colors and thieves
a man who stole my heart
after i gave him my soul
what could be left
rather than a vacant show
i stand before
a mirrored door
debating if i should open
if things were what i was hoping
and i did
a gentleman stood there
thick hair
beautiful eyes
handsome legs
i knew he was the perfect guy
but people turn out to be
color thieves 
bee stings
saying hurtful things
making you fill springs
with tears and deceit