I really am,
created this world,
though now,
surviving with little chance to
ever explain
such is the life of deception.
I walked inside a fantasy
many years ago,
at least
that was defined years
later
when in the heat of the moment,
reality became an ignorance,
I could not possibly
overcome.
Now only tears,
in a silence
I might never imagine,
time turns to weeks,
perhaps I expect months ahead.
The irony of our lives,
one might never realize
my aching heart will never miss the one
she’d expect,
instead the pain of loss,
of a quiet
in a helpless response,
hurts to the core,
hurting
becomes a way of life.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 