Back then it was easier to swing both legs over the ledge,
and come back to shore.
For something more, something more.
But now, lines crisscross in palest ivory
over the smooth insides of swollen arms.
The lucky charms, the lucky charms.
Two roads diverged in a wood,
someone tried to capture a portrait of a girl
and the trees watched from above as
you revealed yourself to be the fraud you were.