You know that pain is the opposite of dissonance
This is the truth that is so dangerous
I want those intangible things
Memories and feelings that refuse to leave me
Unlike the heat of this subtle hilarity
Embedded in the new frost of the old rain
Caressed by the things that torture us
Like chains made from trust
Snapped beneath the weight of distance and wariness
Hating the scars on my chest
Whilst one lives for that which shines through yonder windows
Like the deepest oceans, the heart of the sea
Blue and full of wanderlust
Not quite me