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The memories are like the shadows of a killer waiting to murder you in your bed,
No arms around you, no protection and NO closure.
These passions rising so unrequited and so unjustly warranted,
You are left hanging the emotions like a noose around your neck.
Push it away, do not think, do not suffer , do not grieve you cannot face this darkness all alone,
Love cures all? But there is nothing real and all the walls are made of paper.
Who would choose to free fall through the sky without a parachute or net?
Nothing is real that you could ever put your finger on, so for now, laughter shall just have to do.
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