Tarnished Tales Of Your Truest Lover // poetry

waltz

I guess I could use another
three hour sleep then maybe
I can pretend that it's all fine again.

Blindly raising, flags and paintings,
surrendering in this prison of mine.

It's the dusk of day,
the lights are out.
I can't tell if i'm happier younger.

And I can't sleep,
'til i can feel
the sun rays caressing my entire face.

Don't look for me
in the castle that we last
waltz our way back through the past.
I don't want to be younger
but older just sucks as much.
It's not like I can't go back.
I can't have what i had.