(nothing
makes me question the meaning of life more than meeting a past love)
their
ghosts all haunt this afterlife
in
tombstone love no longer ripe
pictures
packed into a frame
different
faces all the same
a
bed to spoon feed all my lies
with
words i always made them sigh
disarm
with charm until they trust
convincing
as i slake my lust
yet
i believed as i deceived
that
they were all i’d ever need
each
grave marker contains a name
i
view them all amid my blame
faces
memorized and embossed
within
a heart that’s tempest tossed
a
happiness that calmed the sea
but
one of us would always leave
but
as i said their ghosts remain
i
don’t question was it in vain
just
remember all the insteads
of
feelings felt when not in bed
yet
here i am all without them
with
all their ghosts that haunt me still
wishing
we could begin again
but
knowing that we never will
***
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