My favorite song
Has been tainted
By your filth.

Its silky words
Have been texturized
With memories of you.

It hurts to listen to
Knowing I used to sing it
And picture us--
Picture us happy!

Can you imagine that?

And now,
It's a reminder.
A reminder
That it was only fantasy.

That picture stayed on the wall--
Hung in a frame of my desperate love.
An image of my dreams
That never got to live.

An image of "togetherness"
That never truly was.