Dear Fib

No more survival for oxygen

No more pondering about-

Graffitis and secrets.

The delirium shall pass

and so shall the perpatual love.

I did turn behind, once

while falling out of love.

But then,

Numerous asphyxia attacks bespattered!

Chunks of frolicsome unworthy

nostalgia rolling off,

deplorable! how happy moments turn 

into tears.

But our dreams in my sinew are real.

Its too late now

I regret not choosing a single color 

from the spectrum.

You had a blinding glare

residing somewhere between 

my poetry lines,

And-

all these while

I was in love with a fib.