Tacenda ➵ poems

illusion

My heart has been captured,

And passed around like a piece of plastic.

My emotions have been toyed with,

My eyes rendered tearful,

Head filled with regret,

Of ever loving.

Yet I stood there in front of a million others,

Loving you and singing my heart out,

Reminding myself of the thousand heartbreaks,

Swallowing each drop of affliction in the past,

To focus on the future pushing me off the edge.

If you have known, you wouldn't care.

If you had seen, you wouldn't notice.

If you have cried, you wouldn't break.

Nonetheless I had, and you remained clueless.

For all I know,

You could write a million love songs,

I could reply to them in poems,

But those melodies will never be for me,

And that's what hurts the most.

I think of you all the time,

See you in others' faces.

It's almost absurd,

But I digress.

They say it isn't real,

And I think it isn't real.

Nevertheless, is it really just an illusion?

When I could feel each pang of pain,

Taste each hint of suffering,

Through the pages of lyrics,

You've created under your fingers,

And each note from your guitar.