You asked me to confront the ghosts
Of our hearts.  As if moving on is as
Stagnant as the longed-for passing of

Pain.

Not your melodramatic melody of
Hope could cuddle the fright of sight.
Neither its rhythm rhymes with my life's

Deepest sigh.

As it has been and will always be,
Always a scar of scrolled poetry.
Of music and madness, of hues of

You. Nevermind,

I have found someone like you.