Did you know? 

Did you know, when we took those photographs together that you would break me? 

Did you know, when you asked specific questions while we were in that photo booth would be a catalyst to thought? 

Did you know, when you took me in a half hazard form of passion — I would fall in love with you? 

Did you know, I’d let you do anything you desired in that photo booth? 

Did you know, I thought you were genuinely interested as shared kisses occupied the first and second panel of the photo strip? 

Did you know, I saw you, that one time you looked at me, the first time your eyes gazed upon in a fashion of never being seen prior to that moment? 

Did you know, you shattered me in a million little pieces? 

The photographs did not exit the photo booth while, it was a mosaic of shattered pieces held together with gold. 

You caused the destruction of pain, so heavily mocked by your seductive undertones.