Illusions, Nothing More

Sitting back and relaxing
Is one thing i can never do.
Thinking back and fourth
Is how i spend my free time.
The though of her and her smell,
Clouds my whole mind.
The warmth of her touch on me,
still lingers on me at night.
The wanting and needing of her,
hurts to no end.
I live with the fact
or so it has become,
only a fact of the mind.
Only a little memory,
Nothing more.
The photographs we took still
Hang around my room.
Even if they give me so much pain,
they still make me smile.
Crying i do as often as i
think about her.
The tears still stain my
red cheeks.
The smile i portray is
all just an act.
The curve if the mouth
is just an illusion show.
It is mealy only a memory.
Of ho happy i was
When she was still around