Some nights invoke thoughts of love
Best swept under a rug,
The soul's gripped by forbidden dreams
That seldom cease to tug.
Memories and desires
Play along intertwined,
But it no longer hurts as much
To look at what's left behind;
Misplaced hopes though of what could
Yet never would become
Often cloud the patchworked heart
Caught unawares lonesome.
The trick to sleep on nights as these
Is to gather your pains,
Your unrequited passion
And your immortal remains,
And quilt them around your cold self
Till you drift off warm and snug
Into a new daze, escaping
Nostalgia's tight hug.
Fresh reveries will waft in soon
To sew you up from scratch,
Oiling the vendor of your hopes
For next time you need a patch.