my head is a cemetery
our love lies there, dying
where i go to sit on that
old bench we shared at my dad's funeral
i'm still mourning the loss of you
the loss of us
the loss of a dream
(now it's a nightmare)
and everytime i go
i dig up every part of you
as small as how your hair strands shone under the blazing sun
or maybe how your hands would clutch mine
while walking past twenty second street
the amusement on your face when there'd be grape pith
tucked in the gaps of my teeth
and with every visit
i continue to suffer
caught up in this deadly cycle of resurrecting you
only to bury you
again
in my head
please, won't someone
pull me out of this constant need
to go back to what was
never meant to be?

(here lies my emotional downpour,
buried all over
silently resting
waiting for you
to dig it up
once more
just like before)

enter my internal monologue
where dead thoughts of you come back to life

~d.s.
3:30 PM