Denial salty on the tip of your tongue,

While the halted truth burns your lungs.

A force to be reckoned with,

But most certainly not a myth.

It used to be planted every May,

It grows to become every day.

Wrapping around you and me,

Like the broken lights on a Christmas tree.

I stare at the girl in the glass,

Who could fathom that I was that lass.

Once lifted, I see it to the end,

The task that tells me I can no longer pretend.

Unable to stay, unable to leave,

Unable to know what we truly believe.

A mind that struggles with the past,

A heart that worries it won't last.

Fake smiles, fake laughs, I've done it all

Even on the day that my heart began to fall.

I saw it lying there and I just couldn't resist,

The urge to try one last time-and hopefully persist