Yesterday.

A thousand promises remain sewn to these lips -

words forgotten. Confessions and apologies bled

together in a mosaic profession of love. and devotion.

these promises, these fragmented utterances of exposure

echo through me, beating at my head. my heart.

my soul.

yet never straying from my lips.

their resonance is crippling;

their presence keeps playing this scene before me:

you are there and i am there and we are there at that place-

the place between yesterday and today

before the fighting and the resentment

at that time when all that was seen was you. and me.

and it was good.

i remember this: the air is thick with that new lust-

that lust that quickly consumed us and whispered life

into love.

that love that synced the beating of our hearts

and set blinders to our egos and to our fears.

i remember this yesterday, as it is still a part of me.

stuck far beneath the brigaded surface of spite -

the protective layer that still remembers.

these scenes are momentary, teasing memory

only for a second - promising encore, only to vanish

with that love.

that love.

that love that will never be.

These promises remain sewn to my lips, the words

that gave hope to a future, but remained silent to their

giver;

her pride too great, her remorse too heavy, and her heart

too bruised.

My eyes will not close, my lungs will not breathe

my screams will not deafen their mockery.

the last falls silent,

and gathering the shrapnel of this heart, my pride,

i turn to tomorrow and slip away.