I’m but a fragment of your fiction,
A ballad without verse.

My melody may be stilted,
But yours is noteless.

You’re an arrow with no direction.
Why do I keep running after you?

What’s the point of a sign
If you won’t read it?

If tears didn’t show,
Would you still know my hurt?

Clouds cover,
Like makeup on scars.
What should shine through
Is only forgotten.
What keeps me going
Is lost on you.