PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Half a world away,
my mind envisions that
ever infuriating visage,
that passing,
frozen segment of time,
when I was fighting
demons and angels
in this confounded,
lovestruck mind.

Vacillating between extremes -
one minute, full rage,
but the next,
sweet and wistful daydreams.

A fistful of nothing,
though I carry everything within.

I miss my illusion of raw,
misunderstood truth.
Mixed signals, mixed words...
actions without meaning
that meant too much.

Blended choppy,
like peanut butter churned
with chunks of bitter,
raw unmelted chocolate
and added clumps of
sweet nuggets of honeycomb.

These memories stick,
make me want more
while making me sick.

And is there really
hope for a cure except
to embrace the past
only so that I can release it?

I wish to be serenaded
the words of The Scientist.
Or just open up to return
my friend at the very minimum...