Curtains

Shows over..

Dangerous memories of pain and pleasure seen through rose-colored glasses

Like a quicksand of my own creation

tethered to my heart and bound to my soul

you are a part of me

each wound new and unnecessary

you are the chains I tie to myself

binding me to this waste

a sad figure unworthy of pity

the wallow is the defense

unsuccessful at all but ensuring it's impetus

from top to bottom I am drained

watching my life fade like an old photograph

vibrancy and contrast washed away

and meaninglessness will define itself

my life being the illustration