The Things Your Subconcious Gets Up To While Unsupervised.

Somewhere down an inky well
Rests your memory.
When my mind sinks down
And wants a tale of love to tell
It only has one reference to draw.
You waft back up to the surface,
Stale as you are, and as pale,
Bedraggled and as shaken.


I need to stop tripping over the past
Each time that I awaken