Like separating the wind from the air,
Or dividing the light from the day,
Deny, deny that these feelings are here,
Keep trying to will them to go away.
Like tearing apart green from grass,
As if you could separate the two,
Choose your memories, deny what's passed,
Lie to yourself, though you know the truth.
It's a band-aid to cover a jugular wound,
A rubber raft to cross the ocean wide,
Sustenance begged from imaginary food.
It adds up to living while dying inside.
