If I stopped loving you would it be easier
to breathe, to sleep, to smile?
Would you want to sing again?
Would you forget how to cry?
Would the pain of my existence
diminish from your mind?
Would every moment I've said your name
be bandaged with a little time?
Perhaps I've clung on foolishly
to the branches of a dead dream.
And maybe the only half of me left
is a lie I cannot get out from underneath.
The blanketing comfort of imagined love
is suffocating the life we once had planned.
I promise I will learn to let you go
when every inch of me says I can't.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
;(
Post a Comment