Burn to heal
the dollar bill or
this dried sage
I wish the choice was simple
Like the plans we made
When I was all the rage
Yet time keeps slipping away
Until every last day ends up words on a page
Only to be ripped out
like its currency I paid
three and four memories at a time
Not everything you feel can be summed up in a rhyme
Still she's a friend of mine
This time
And if I seem tired it's from running through her mind
This time