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Ties wither and break

Birdges burn and crumble

The shoes are ignored and trashed

The songs lose their meaning

The clothes fade and wear

The flower tarnishes and rusts

The promises are forgotten

The memories cloud and diminish

So many things called dear and valuable, thrown aside so quickly without remorse. I wonder if you so needed some control of your own heart and life that to make such stark decisions is like a boon in the tumult of your spirit. How does it feel to only be someone's pain, confusion, their regret? How does it feel for your power to lie in how you could turn and spoil the joys and memories of so many into hurt and frustration. How do you stomach the most positive effect of your friendship is the resolve and trajectory that results in others' hearts from your sudden and quick departure? Such knowledge could haunt anyone's soul. Such effect could fill a stone with regret. But not you, never you.

You are pain.

Where the willows hang down

The wild birds they warble

With a low moaning sound

Way down in the hollow

Where the river runs cold

It was there I first listened

To the lies that you told

Now I lie on my back

And I see your sweet face

A past I remember

Time can't erase

And letters you wrote me

They were written in shame

And know that your conscience

Still echoes my name

A rose that never wilts

You keep it in a drawer

Or some dark place

You betray it everyday

Three pages in on a hundred page book and the co-author has taken off with the pen.

What's the point of the words written down if they go nowhere. You should have known they were a lie when you wrote them. You convinced me every word was true even when you didn't believe it yourself. But you knew I wanted it to be true so much that I'd fall for it. What was the plan? Was there a plan? Or was I just the most convenient source of what you needed until you realized you didn't want it. You came after me. You wanted me. You asked for me. And you had me, completely. You still do. But you're gone from me. You want nothing to do with me. You ask me to feel the same. But it was never the same, not for you and me, that's obvious now.

Listening to my heart calling after you long after I would ever want it to.

Would you even care to hear how it yearns?

Would you even be upset if I told you who I just kissed?

Would you tell me you miss me even if you did?

Would your heart call to me if your head didn't stop it?

You are so cold compared to that girl, who spoke of such deep love and care. You are so distant for one who was closest than any other. I struggle now to see how both of these women can be true, one must be a lie.

Either the one who loved me was the truth or the one who turns her back to me now is the truth. There is a lie somewhere now, either in what you said or how you now feel.

Truth is, I don’t have nightmares

I don’t wake from terrors or sadness in the night

I have dreams so sweet

Dreams of you so grand

So soft, so near

Beautiful dreams of a single moment with you

How is it you sleep with the blanket I gave you every night and don't have the same dreams I do.

How is it you wear all those things and think not once of the one who gifted them.