Euphoric

Meet me at the watering hole,

Where we can just lay for a while.

As the time stops ticking.-

Because if we wait a while,

The river will smile, and pull down the sun.

Painting the beautiful watercolor memoir.-

Or more like a eulogy to what we’ve lost.

We paid this cost, causing us to digress in a time

Full of loneliness and lack luster.-

The memories lay on the shelf collecting dust.

All the euphoria rushes down in streams on my face;

Washing away the painting you put your signature on.

Ruining the blend.

Creating storms in the sky leaving nothing in their paths.

It was never remembered.

If I could just remember!

That-

That would be a time well lasted.

I have always taught myself to tune out the good times aswell as the bad.

Because, once you turn the page, the good times become sour,

and taste like bleach.

Twisting your tongue, kicking in your teeth.

Making sure it forever left its mark.