#A memory mourning a memory... oddly poetic don't you think?

[patchwork-crow-writes]

65 - A Pocket Full Of Smoke

My hands pass through the ghost you left behind; Memories of a smile that ne'er was mine, Clinging to my fur like a bad habit Or ill-fitting clothes. A musty nostalgia For a home now lost, a heart turned to stone; There's a chill in my soul now I'm alone.

Is it too much to ask for one last touch As a memento, proof that we were real? Oh woe! Scour my heart and make me unfeel The exquisite scars left by your embrace! Wipe clean the tears I left upon your face; Grant me grace to turn from your loving gaze!

I suppose I should send you on your way; And yet my fingers refuse to unfurl From betwixt the curling, coiling vapour Of your dear-departed breath. Here you stay; My lungs full of the smoke left in your wake, As warm as the promise you had to break.

A shadow can't cradle you as you cry And a flame trapped in sable can't survive. So leave me and my ersatz love behind And I'll remember how it used to feel; The promise in the soft light of your eyes That a dream could dare to dream it were real.

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 65

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