Daydreaming of the perfect life we'd have with the what ifs
Silently crying tearless sobs at a wisp of nothing but wishes
My heart aching to be saying its whole once again
I've been put back together too many times with too many tears
To feel more than ragtag and burnt out like a dead bulb
undergoing this affliction called hope again, like the gripe of insanity is setting in
Wisp of wishes of the things that never will be
sounding off the walls of doubts and failures from past to present
whispers multiplied by every unsaid word
the end is inevitable with forever that speaks louder still
