Conversations

Sometimes I have conversations in my head,

With people, I no longer love, of things I no longer own,

That remains, cornered, in my fondness or my despair

And softly caress my insides,

As I swallow wonder, on the other side of wishful thinking.

 

Sometimes I have conversations in my head,

With words sincere enough, to belittle those I speak,

But my tongue chooses to feed the latter, the harmless and irrelevant

For it finds comfort in the pretence, and I obey silently.

 

Sometimes I have conversations in my head,

That make my heart come alive, but then I remember,

These are the conversations, I'll never really have

Or maybe I no longer can.