A Dream

My imagination keeps hurting me, it’s making up these memories.

It’s brining up these things that never happened, and playing the saddest melodies.

I needed very little but you made it complicated. You made me the fool.

For the rest of my days I’ll regret thinking that I knew you. I’ll make it a rule:

That you never lay your thirsty glaze on my spine before I grab a knife.

But you don’t make it easy, you read into my words. Please, get a life.

Pack your bags and go torture another creature in love with the helpless.

I would write a memoir about your messes, but there’s not a book that would sell less.

My imagination keeps hurting me, it’s bringing up these late night feelings.

But let’s not waste our time on those who are out of sight, let’s go with the proceedings.

By all means, let’s not waste another second discussing unimportant affairs.

We all know that love only tastes good when it’s mixed fair.