it’s dead it’s gone
what can bring back which is lost?
nothing and in that nothing
maybe it’s time to move on?
maybe it’s time to realize there was little there to begin with…
the memory we feed is a memory we create to strengthen regret

And what good is regret
when nothing can be saved
today or tomorrow
the whispers belong to ghosts now
and the sadness is the haunting
don’t want to grieve, rather deny it’s not done
but hope all I want
it’s dead it’s gone