Denial salty on the tip of your tongue,
While the halted truth burns your lungs.
A force to be reckoned with,
But most certainly not a myth.
It used to be planted every May,
It grows to become every day.
Wrapping around you and me,
Like the broken lights on a Christmas tree.
I stare at the girl in the glass,
Who could fathom that I was that lass.
Once lifted, I see it to the end,
The task that tells me I can no longer pretend.
Unable to stay, unable to leave,
Unable to know what we truly believe.
A mind that struggles with the past,
A heart that worries it won't last.
Fake smiles, fake laughs, I've done it all
Even on the day that my heart began to fall.
I saw it lying there and I just couldn't resist,
The urge to try one last time-and hopefully persist