Don't tell me lies of an idealistic future,
of flower petals cascading off of building tops,
instead of people popping open on sidewalks,
of brightly lived lives altering our old selves,
instead of deteriorating into our dark fears...

Don't tempt me with an idealistic future,
of clouds crowding our heads with dreams,
instead nauseous despair constantly creeping,
of ripened strawberries freckled with dew,
instead of pills coated with sweetener...

Don't tell me lies of an idealistic future,
of“I will always love you”s,
even as the colors of the world fade to grey,
and background music pulsates gently against our ears,
until even the whispering echos are silenced...

It's the silence that haunts me.