my heart is an open palm, exposed and raw
In my land of bright lights you are effervescent -
Overwhelming at once, I am oblivious the next.
You are the palpable product of words I never meant,
Of clouded judgement, infinite dreams; my sweet Regret.
My conscience weighs you down and embeds you
Somewhere in the murky depths of this sepulchral soul.
Yet there is little want of redemption for what I do,
And you and your kind maketh the stories I never told.
Even now I would sing that I am yours, Yours!
As I believe you are mine in all your tainted forms.
Sucker as I am for your taste, touch and allure,
The beauty of folly is not weeping when all else mourns.
So this is an ode to my ill-fated penchant for
Secrets I have to keep, and everything that
I loved to hold but not to possess.
That I wish to forget, but forget to regret.
