Alien

Some memories feel like alien now,

It seems that the me in these pictures is not me.

For how can love fade?

For how can affection be vile?

Can love be born out of hatred?

I often stare at the alien me in these pictures.

Trying to find the traces of betrayal I carry in my eyes now.

I have tried forgiving you.

But everyday a new grave is dug out.

And another of your horrors find me.

I still try to find the traces of love in your eyes.

But they speak boldly of lies.

The silence you carry on your face.

Do you ever regret your choices?

Do you ever regret your actions?