Closure is a fiction,
A word created to try
to make us feel better;
A desperate attempt to hide
the festering wounds
we all keep so dear.
The ones we hold on to,
cling to, out of fear.
No matter the method,
the hole never will close;
we try to patch it with band-aids,
but underneath, decompose.
The ghosts of futures
we will never know
continue to haunt us,
where ever we go.
"It is better to have loved and lost",
a greater lie never spoken.
Romantics leave us husks,
empty and broken.
We settle for someone,
when are wild days are done,
and we regret forever
the loss of that one.