there was January mist
in the air that morning,
& I walked through empty
sunrise streets
stripped of a life i had dreamed
stripped of all but
my demons,

& even though i tried my worst
with lies and words,
for a while there,
you still said
that i fought
with the heart of a lion

time even took my ghost from you,
that bastard
now all that's left of us -
photographedmemories
(it was the best of times, )
left behind, faded but forever there
held within my mind

here, now,
4000 cigarettes later
(make that 4001)
i still dream of
white castles on beaches,
& you on the highest tower
looking out to sea
dreaming back at me

the memory of your voice
still
fills
me
like
the
warm
kiss
of
summer
rain.

I like this a lot, I like how you explained how time passed, the cigarets tells me that it wasnt fulfilling. The subtle 4001 makes all the difference, like your smoking right now while telling the sad story of lost love. Beautifully sad...