the sweet nothings you whisper,
a reminder of the times that we had.
joyous, reckless, young.
tonight i ask you to stay,
but once again you don't listen.
so is it ever going to be over?
you and me.
***
the clown returned. crept back inside my head and told me things i needed to hear. filling my head with thoughts that are now words. goading me to come back. six months. six years. doesn't matter.
its not over.
never.
