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The Never

Some memories of you
are mental wildflowers.
Where I lay for hours
in the intoxicating deception
of a sickly sweet perfume.
But really my heart,
was a haggard yard,
rigor mortis roots of dead truth.
Truth that dies can be
worse than lies.
False memories of you and I.
I remember how I desired it to be,
In denial of the nuances,
as they silently scream,
that you would never love me.
The never, with the hazel eyes of forever.
Written by deliabear (Debbie)
Published
Author's Note
Purging an unwanted memory.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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