I cried, again, last night,
Except there were no tears,
No sobs could be heard,
They’ve all been reserved,
By a mind come to realize that crying’s absurb.

I slept, again, last night,
On a pillow of old tears, knitted by you,
Wrapped in the quilt of your guilt,
But my hurt, was the only thing that kept me warm.

I dreamt, again, last night,
But this time there was no nightmare of you being here,
Yes, no nightmare of an unauthentic happiness,
No fear crippled by blind trust.

There was only the sweet escape offered to me by the knowledge of the truth,
Sad, yet, real,
Cold like steel,
And still,
I won’t run from my dreams,
Because they show me, subconsciously,
That pain and love, are make believe,
Nothing more than figments of a naïve imagination.
Neither can exist without the other.
And neither exists.
They are simply words, notions made up to give meaning to something that cant be defined, understood, or controlled.
Accept it.
Take my morphine away, and don’t tell me there’s hope,
Give me an I.V. full of reality,
I wish you could see, what I see….