Bottle

I don’t like to speak of my sadness.
Not in public anyway.
As to tell, I must admit,
Confess it’s name.

But as giving it a name would make it real.
I will never create that character
I will never set that scene
As each day that passes is another further away,
From that awful, awful dream.

Bitter

Was it perfect?
Did we match?
What about all those nights I sobbed in bed?

With Rose tinted memories,
I struggle to move on.
I will forever,
look behind.

Comparing every fling
to this perfect vision.
Completely stifling.
All for a sugar coated memory.

In fact

A

Straight

Up

Lie.

You

I see your face

A light turns on

I can’t look away

From your eyes, so deep

That cheeky grin as you look away

Melts my insides

Every time I want you closer

I don’t know how

To act so casual

When all I really want

Is you.