I long to be able to listen
to songs i used to love
without apparitions of moments
tainted by the intensity
of your memory
oh! to be cured of you
and the light of your extremes
where no fragrance is off limits-
where pleasant scents
are not betrayals
but smiles waiting to blossom
no nostalgia to wrestle with,
no deep inhaling and closing of the eyes
revealing confusing hopes of reliving
refusing, inviting
refusing
inviting
oh! to be cured of you
and the light of your extremes
where the pleasant past is not a myth
where senses are not stolen
traded to a bitter future void of warm sensation
void of truth, sound and hue
void of you.
to be full of hope once more
to live, breathe, taste and feel
the little remaining of my fleeting youth
to once again be drunk with life
and everything I once held true
oh! to be cured of you
and the light of your extremes.
