Sorry...
Feel the crushing weight of it?

Beyond this the wasted,  
the fake, wasted.

The sensation
of darkened moments awaiting
daybreak and understanding

our past is playing
Cords of silk,
strung to be strummed,
a gentle note.

The price is living,
cast out, caught up,  
Knowing it was you...

You blew it.
Images played out every evening

Bitter sweet
the rotten misperception

Each scene you,  
And suffered through to numbness

To hold this,  
my happiest of moments
Without being able to know it

I find myself lonely,  
My heart weighted...

Seeing the end,

Noticing it to be...
an essential moment