i have to remember that
they are better in my memories
time uses its sweet fog to water down
the bitter Whisky of the past

i want to know that it is futile to
remember things that are dead
i want to live in a present with no past,
like christmas day

to be free of them and all of
the stunted growth of my youth
i am incongruous for faults
not of my own

to be whole again, to wash my
body clean of dirt i never
meant to get beyond my clothes
i wish it was simple

i live in a pink fog of discontent,
uncertainty and an entropy
that is only exacerbated
by soft touch and holiness

but i live for times when my
head is at bay; no reticent lover,
no sweet life could divert me
from my path again