so this is how it is inside the mind of a madman

so this is how it is
inside the mind
of a madman:

one sees no other
colors but a lover's skin
hear no other word
but a name that rings
on and on
no other recluse
but an old embrace

one tries and tries to to hold a lover
create from mist past scenes of the love
and it's making

one tries and tries to understand
why it ended
one tries and tries
to resolve the pain
maybe paint
a new love
fabricate a memory
and try and try

or maybe not try at all

see it all end
but not let it go
complain about the pain
but love it the next day
write poetry in bad taste
complain about cliché

or maybe not try no more
or love her still