You

You.

You are my silent lullaby. My blood red sun. My traveller's tale. My fading reason. My unfound excuse. My broken string. My guilty promise. My unfinished lesson. My empty yesterday. My bursting heart.

You are my unwritten epitaph. My deep blue sea. My soaring guitar riff. My reluctant wait. My cornered melancholy. My drawn out apology. My custom-made world. My furtive fall. My anguished symphony. My blank photograph.

You are my whiff of insanity. My moonless sky. My endless goodbye. My eloquent absence. My deceptive resilience. My forlorn smokescreen. My dawning realisation. My sore compromise. My angry wish. My cold winter night.

You are my secret childhood. My daily vertigo. My stolen kiss. My half-full glass. My hasty retreat. My white noise. My tiresome game. My unflinching arrogance. My dreamy reality. My poetic injustice.

You are my bleary eyed surprise. My wordless song. My early morning drive. My persistent religion. My unanswered call. My aching redemption. My unwanted freedom. My windy window. My lazy sunday. My searching inexistence.

You. My raging insolence. My charming ignorance. My lonely memory. My exquisite torment. My awkward adventure.

You. My seductive uncertainty. My ailing innocence. My relentless curiosity. My seething rain. My fleeting erasure.

You.
You. You. You.