Last Strike

• Sophie Vo, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2017

Perfect match they labelled us,
Adjusting photos with such fuss.
Compliments they pay and type.
Our love is based on amount of likes.

Desperately I set myself alight,
Much to your sadistic delight.
I blindly wait within the dark,
In trust you won't break my heart.

Red veins turn into blood stains,
Refine words like love with pain.
Strike one, two and three,
Filters conceal the true me.

Delude myself to think it's true,
That I can be loved by someone like you.
Atlas the spark between us is in doubt,
Eventually all the matches will burn out.