PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I hate how the memories always come back,

yet she never does, her presence lacks,

my loneliness acts like a shield, a desire,

a place where i end up when you retire,

always in the end it returns in flashes,

memories both good and bad burn your mind to ashes,

the feeling i felt then will never be felt again,

maybe it's for the best i let us end,

demons in disguise pulling me towards her,

the devil himself giving me anything for her,

my mind chose to store her as a misplaced angel,

i just wish you'd retrace your steps, angel,

be you heaven or hell, the best thing about you,

was i felt both with you and neither without you,

maybe i shouldn't ever again be able to feel,

like heaven or hell were both very real.