The lack of sleep it creeps
into my mind.
Stoned.
I have no will to fight it.
The lonely thoughts,
the regrets.
No it won't suffice.
The melancholy pills,
kill the rational son shine.
Emboldened romance,
memories too perfect to have been true,
charge from the very bottom of my heart.
Half dreams that I hold on to,
that should be burned, buried, and forgotten.
I threw everything else away that reminded me of you.
They are all that's left.
A poor man I am,
reduced to pathetic hopes.
Scraps.
The meager meals scrounged for my soul.
It starves, but I go on.