Now I see you've taken over my dreams, too.
First my eyes, then my smile, and finally my heart.
All thrown against a brick wall in the end, of course.
And yet they rose, bruised and bloodied, but intact.
Over time they mended themselves, though the scar tissue remained
as a reminder of a bleak past.
It was over, the exaggerated and over-wrought struggle.
But now this?
You've been out of my life, my mind, and my sight.
The thought persists, of course, from time to time,
but is gently pushed away.
Until now, when you seep into my unconscious
and refuse to leave.
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