I dont want your love

Dislike your attention

Do everything I can

To push away your affection

Boy get the hint because

I'm not going back in time

To when you treated me like ****

I
W
  i
   s
   h
    Y
     o
      u
       W
        o
         u
          l
           d
            L
             i
              s
                t
                 e
                   n
                      M
                         o
                           r
                            e
                              A
                                ­ n
                                   d
                                     Y
                                       e
                                         l
                                          l
                                           L
                                            e
                                             s
                                              s

Broken, a dove lay.
Crimson blood stains her wings red.
Surly love was the cause.

Why would I give you my heart?
I know you’re going to break me.
Why would you break me?
Take it back, baby.
Take it all back.
You didn’t mean it right?
Say you didn’t mean it.

I loved you.
But I’ll take it back.

Vestigium, a Latin word meaning "footprint, trace."

Day hides behind a curtain of white,
So hides the night, the fading night.
The fog that descended before the light
Moves and curls around the lights brightly.
The earth is swallowing the memory of the sky.

With pressed-tight lips and dreary-eyed
I am staring into the obscure day, forming
As the fog leaves a footprint, a trace
On objects and roofs, then slyly drips down.
Its soft coolness covers me, as well.

Where is the context of things barely seen?
An ephemeral blanket closes in on us all.
Unsettling until the day is elucidating sight.
The lights all have halos like a holy thing.
At least it gives each one a certain clarification.

Still, the fog is closing in.