Caustic Daydreams

My mental fencing ensues,

Much later than the actual fight,

Each verbal jab precise and piercing,

The cradling coffee in my hand,

My only solace in the raging silence,

In the comfort of my chair,

The argument is replayed,

I should've said this,

I could've said that,

Oh how easily the words come now,

As nightfall coaxes bitterness;

 

The words flow so freely in the figment,

Each driving my verbal spar to victory,

The subject matter matters not,

For in the daydream arena,

I am always the supreme,

In my head I'm not broken,

Whilst trembles and tears in reality,

Bespeak a story of failure,

Oh how I hate my behaviour,

Alas, regret adding more flavour,

To my caustic daydreams.