Monday, September 26, 2016

Delusion


Am I not the longing that fills your nights 
The cigarette smoke that floats in the air? 
The half drunk glass of whisky laced with regret 
Am I not in the invisible lines traced on the counter 
By your fingertips 
Is it not my name that escapes your lips?
Or in the music notes that drift in the background 
The memories that play hide and seek
In the deepest corners of your mind 
Or the lone droplets on your rain spattered windows 
Was it ever about me? Was any of it?
Or maybe I'm simply being delusional...

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