A Memory Less Traveled
They wont let go; the bright lights of your eyes.
This is not love. This is blissful breathing.
In time they die; the hundred second chances.
This perfect kiss is meaningless.
Her breath of lies into your eyes.
In time they'll die.
I'm driving.
Barely sleeping.
On 4, then 3, and into hell.
My failing is poison and romance that I'm pleading to erase in time.
