I like to pretend that the world is what I make it
that you are of my own mind's creation
and the "we" exists in fragments of shattered thought
etched against the backdrop of black-red eyelid.

I like to pretend that I don't miss something
in your cold unfeeling eyes
like that gaze that screamed YOU'RE NOTHING TO ME
really is nothing to me.

I like to imagine myself with you there
and not with your hands on me, never your hands on me
I like to pretend sometimes that I feel like I did
when I'd utter three words and hear nothing but silence between.

I like to pretend that I don't still weep for something
I never cared to give away but did
you never meant to make me crumble
I never meant to make you cry.

08/05/2003

Author's Note: For Geordie, I suppose...

Posted on 08/05/2003
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