You never know what you had until it's long gone, chasing after it like a child chasing a dream, or perhaps like we try to chase happiness...


You made your mistakes, deal with it.
You made your bed, now sleep in it.

Like the wind whispering in the grass, your voice whispers in my dreams, or perhaps sends me to sleep when I've drank too much again. Empty bottles litter this room, laundry is scattered on the floor, everything is out of order.

I put this lament somewhere where it won't be seen, and at least if seen, not noted. If I don't put it somewhere, my heart my explode from the pure pain of missing you.