What used to be an open embrace has become crossed arms and a cold face. I used to call you home, even though you are no place.
With staggered breathing, I’ve ran out of room to run. Back faced into a corner, left to deal with what I’ve done.
Driven you away which I knew would happen before we’d begun. We had never begun, I was so enticed with the run I forgot to take in my surroundings.
So I had never noticed you were never more than a blur I created due to my hallucinations, medicated. Induce by euphoria and the fear of being lonesome. Instead of building memories I decided to grow some, in the garden of my mind.
Constantly telling myself that I’m fine, but how fine can one be if it’s something to you have to constantly remind.
But I’d rather comfortably sit in the garden that I’ve grown, than face the reality that I’m truly alone.