It’s only too late if you’re dead

05.01.2011

Toxic thoughts of chocolate sticks
and cold rainy afternoons
Dancing through your tired mind
Like visions of the moon
Distant, cold and mesmerizing
Like the memory of her touch
Soft, warm, inviting, true
and other lilac words as such

Harsh words swirling around your frame
in a way that she once would
like the scent of smoke you swore you loved
echoing like the truth.
And memories mingle with morbid dreams
To the point you can’t decide
whether you’d be better off asleep eternally
or dare venture on to the waking side

For half remembered, half forgotten
is a blessing in your eyes
especially when you dream up love
cloaked in pretty lies
She swore that you would regret it all
And you laughed until it was too late
Now no number of hours spent sleeping
dismiss the empty hours that await

You can clutch your head in mortal pain
and scream and curse and swear
Or saunter on so casually
that it be painful to bear
But all your words and all your pleas
or your life lived in disguise
will never reach her long gone ears
or reflect for an instant in her eyes

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