when I think of you
I want to lay down and let flowers grow over me.
like the love you had for me, it never existed.

going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
sometimes
it is returning to yourself.

I don’t know which is worse,
continuing to day dream and think about you..
or stay with you and hear your lies…
both are torture.

I pick you up like a book
Open, close, repeat.
The same words, same actions
No new stories,
Exactly the same since the day you published yourself.
Why do I continue to read you?

When I dream of you, sadness surrounds me like a thick fog.
The sadness allows me to run, through the fog and into your eyesight.
Over the hills, through the woods, I chase you passing rivers and rocks.
You are only an arms length away.
The way you run convinces me I will catch you,
but then I realize you control the chase, with the pace I run and the thoughts I think.
So no matter how hard I try I cannot win this game of tag
With every twist and turn you take me on, I fall behind farther.
I stop in the path that never ends, out of breathe and exhausted I begin to fold and bend.
You look back and stop in your tracks, to wait for the chase that I cannot, will not win.
The fog rolls away as I am awake remembering where we left off again.