Past Love
Stare into my pools of brownness without knowing how to ease my pain,
Watch my lake drain into the surface of my being.
All I want from you is to show me the love I earn,
As whimpers escape my lips, yours hushed mine.
Now hold my hand whisper sweet Somethings in my ear
I want your love
Trust was too hard and knowing was obvious
I feel nothing.
I feel nothing more.
Look into my empty lakes, realize my strain to continue.
My willingness has died.
We are of past loves.
