The bitter melancholy
Stings the open wound on my lip,
Bit through the parched skin;
Words which I tartly exhale
Only find their way out
After catching;
Perhaps my mouth would be best
Kept closed.

The words that trickle through your gullet,
Just to pour out your mouth,
Either mean absolutely nothing or absolutely everything,
Whether regurgitated or not;
I just hope you find your balance again...

Soon.

There were times that I slept
As nothing greater nor nothing less
But when the times came that I dreamt
There was no way to supress
My thoughts of you as something more...
Until every color finally digressed
And I was left, staring
At your outline.

The sky is aligned
In an array of blues and pinks
Almost like the hue of cotton candy,
But perhaps a more somber tone
Than the sweet I would eat
Under the red and white cone
They called a circus tent.

There are some nights I remember you,
Never sure if I want to.
Perhaps if your memory would pass,
Life could elapse at a quicker pace;
Or perhaps that day was always meant to stay
In touch;
I suppose that's why it would matter so much,
But not as much as today,
Tonight,
When I would remember you.

You were the art
I once inhaled slowly
Piece by piece
Until I realized
The puzzle didn't feel whole.

You were a facade,
A mask I never saw through
Because you never fit,
A mirage I depended on
For far too long,
Only to reach for the nothingness before me,
Thinking I'd found salvation,
When in the end,
All you ever were
Was a facade.