A white mist drifts over the space thats spare,
a cold sheet, no the cold sheet,
part of it anyways.

It's a dark view in this room,
memories float like ghosts passed,
but they don't pass through me anymore,
although sometimes they linger.

Dearest space my sincerest apologies,
I wish I could've brought you more warm memories,
but the warmth of a good memory fade,
now nothing more than a cold shiver when they wash over me.

I didn't have the chance? No, the opportunity?
No.
I didn't have the courage.
Good is no longer good enough.