Try as I might , I can not forget the memory
attempting to jump from the banks of regression
treading water in the pools of oblivion
wanting escape from its relentless impression

What was needed was truly deserved
everyone born should learn to feel wanted
searching in places open and reserved
seeking to fill a void,  we the haunted

Somehow convinced that the mire is ours
feeling so normal in the space of confusion
by default losing many days and hours
holding hands with shame and delusion

It's too late to get back what was lost
taken away by a fast rushing river
each day seems to inflate the cost
the dividends no one can ever deliver

Some of us are missing just what we needed
replacing love with other shapes and forms
learning how to find us within ourselves
becoming friends with the visceral storms