Ten days,
Two hundred and forty hours.
I allow myself to drink delusions,
under the covers,
aching,
thinking about how everything is changing,
except my helpless, hapless hoping.
I have slept a little,
wept a lot,
your name lives in my dreams,
a curse that calls to me,
and I sleep,
to forget.
I thought I didn’t make you happy,
anymore,
watching the cards fall,
walls free themselves,
words fail.
I am on the moon,
staring down at myself,
self destructing,
down with the ship,
down with the system.
Everything changes,
everybody changes,
except the mistress of mistakes,
who always goes back.
I thought I didn’t make you happy,
anymore.
I don’t remember happiness.
I wouldn’t recognise her,
if she sat at my bedside,
begging me to run away with her.
Our mirrored tears,
would not move me,
and everything changes,
pieces parting ways,
playing new games,
but I always remain,
under the covers,
aching,
waiting.
It does and sometimes is for the better and sometimes for the worst
LikeLiked by 1 person