Into Me

Wafts, wefts of hopes, tangled in life’s ribbons, all are clichés, first date kisses; cowardly stolen, diluted to colourless yarn. Into myself; Lawn of memories, dandelion bloom littered insolently demanding attention. Coat of bravado, threadbare and excuses bleached; yet comfortable. No need to tie complimentary bows to slip-on friends, who are but existences hollow echoes. They are broken bottles, discarded, empty of substance. I plagiarize hearts sorrow, stitch it to coat-sleeve bravado. Promises weaved into romances web, until lies are love-bite branded. My life; esoteric, fashioned from second-hand words lip-read from B-movies. I look into my heart, Hear emptiness echo and can only marvel at how loud my voice seems.