Destituted Dream

Like a broken record player, the memories of you and me is a scene where a John Mayer song fits perfectly if, like his platinum selling music,is to last forever and meant to be. Unfortunately, It is just a destitute dream. I thought i be the lucky one, though no puns are ever intended, but, it was a freaking punch that left me dismembered, remembered every sentence, every word, a dialogue left recorded in my cellular hoping it give me a motherfucking answer as to why our love will only be a destituted dream. Lets not point fingers in the aftermaths that left bloody gashes, our friendship slowly decaying into ashes that the only thing palpating is the feeble wind breathing out the shattered remains of time that "we" used to be. Baby, let me just say im sorry when my cheek faced against thee after the days i deserted due to my childish actions, such a man that you wished could be your most lovable companion, but stiching your injured seam isnt such as easy as i was the one who tore it so shamefully. Despite all the time ive lived in secrecy, the type you had seen, the wild fantasies I've seen with you and i, the type where i wished we lived in the manhattan skyline, all what i wished it can be, i just hope you arent a destituted dream,