Your elegant deception
floats mobiles
over my daydreams.

Once again,
I have lost
my better self.

A tear in the tendon
implies strength
now disintegrated.

I am ugly again
like every time
before.

This is where
hope goes to die.

The unbearable ache,
the parched mouth,
the unattainable ideal.
Remember:
You had me.

You lost me.

You decided.

Advertisements