The Most Bitter Storm
Everything I've lost shows up in my dreams
Like some sort of resurrection
Lingering, hanging over me
Or it ever exist at all?
Did you exist at all.
I try to wash your blood from my hands,
But somehow, still, I remain stained
I try to erase your tiny, broken body from my head
But you've etched yourself into my memory.
Lucidly, I pick at thoughts of who you.....
Could have been,
Or who you tried to be,
Human. A human being.
Dead and gone.....
A secret it seems.
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