thoughts that clutter
life is a trip, but i try not to fall.
| another love poem |
| 05.01.04 (11:56 pm) |
|
I feel that I have given my all to you, and this is not another love poem. As I write these words, I silently hope you'll stumble across this And see what you done to me, But as I promised, this is not another love poem. Then maybe you'll realize that my state is the product Of your beguiling charm and your sweet siren's song And it is because of you I can never write another love poem. So now, I must pretend that you do not exist, And I constantly convince my self that your absence would result some sort of bliss But baby, once you were erased I only longed for you more. All I want to do is write you another love poem. When I saw you yesterday I realized that everything I once felt still remained. These luke-warm tears slowly burned reality, the ashes of my heart is that remains I know I said I wouldn't write another love poem, because when I do all that I try to forget returns. your smile, your voice, your warmth, your touch painfully sears my memory, and my soul is left forever branded. It is times like these I simply realize the only tangible thing I have left of you is this love poem. |