Aches of a thousand blisters,
Remnant in my core,
Plaguing my facade,
With encumbering gloom.
I miss you,
But not really.
Maybe this will subside,
If memories flee.
Then healing would be certain.
Would it?
My gift of pain,
Is also mine.
Profanity was my wish,
Your piety never indulged in.
Its better that we’re free,
If only not caged still.
Now I have myself,
My selfishness.
We’ll be fine,
Once we’ve found ourselves.
Those lost will be regained,
Those wasted to be reused.
Find something better,
Something else,
Someone that’s not me.
- Rasui Akira
written on April 13, 2006 – 10:17 PM
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