The Nostalgic Dead

Nostalgic silence for the ghost Just lonely despair for the breathing host More plastic apples for my dreams More poisoned answers to wipe me clean I circle through her playful arms The mist I become now does her harm Such pleasant reasons to resist If only she saw that I don’t exist Process my words to keep you still But you’ve heard it before, and you always will Come closer to the calm in you You’re conscious within and we always knew Nostalgic patience full of loss Dead disrepair for the life I’m not More tragic light on what’s inside More love and hate that will end in night My wisest hours spread this pain My ignorance leads me into these games My wistful silence screams for more It’s only in death that it’s all ignored