Some days are harder than others,
last night, logic fell out of my eyes,
severely injuring itself upon landing,
it struggles to crawl back into my mind.

An emotional beast has taken over,
walking through the aisles of my life,
slashing it’s way through old memories,
stopping to stare as a savage beast does,
at some of the warmer, fonder, moments.

It breathes heavily on the glass,
that separates reality from memories,
and I can see her face through the fog.

The pictures do not do her memory justice,
and i don’t need a foggy window to see,
everything that she has meant to me.

The years haven’t softened the memories;
the drugs don’t work,
the girls have failed,
everywhere the face of love lost,
rears it’s infantile, ugly head.

The beast will eventually walk onward,
leaving the image in perfect condition,
but he always returns to it now and again.

Echoes abound about the love requited,
but they are only echoes, and echoes alone,
not from the mouth of the one that matters,
creating a naive, and distracting, ambiance.

Some days are harder than others…