The Nostalgic Dead

Nostalgic silence for the ghost
Just lonely despair for the breathing host
More plastic apples for my dreams
More poisoned answers to wipe me clean

I circle through her playful arms
The mist I become now does her harm
Such pleasant reasons to resist
If only she saw that I don’t exist

Process my words to keep you still
But you’ve heard it before, and you always will
Come closer to the calm in you
You’re conscious within and we always knew

Nostalgic patience full of loss
Dead disrepair for the life I’m not
More tragic light on what’s inside
More love and hate that will end in night

My wisest hours spread this pain
My ignorance leads me into these games
My wistful silence screams for more
It’s only in death that it’s all ignored