might I ever feel that way again?
It makes me not want to call you,
makes me want to forget
all the feelings we shared... moments
out of broken times

might I...
[no, this won't do.]

might i
[yes, so much better]

might i ever wonder what
makes me plead to myself
knowing i'll come to regret?
no... and all these fears emerge
seeking to engulf

my pain


tears that drop
and form illusions -
a forgotten fresco, hidden
beneath layers of mould
down below,
in the cold, dark, humid cells

of my prison's mind

drawings disintegrated by time
i scratch the walls with my bare hands
- my bleeding nails -
revealing scenes from a memory
pictures of you.

Of you, illusion,

of you...