Return to Wonderland

Melancholy play-by-plays
Run rampant beneath
Blue-veined lids
As I reluctantly process
What I had hoped was
A poorly played joke.

Promising whispers
Are none-too-gently
Ripped from my already
Bleeding heart and
Placed into her
Greedy, outstretched hands.

My voiceless pleads
Fall upon deaf ears
As I descend
Into the hole
In which you promised
I'd never have to return...