Phantoms...

Days later and still I find my thoughts muddled. My conscious mind consumed by something more than the simple conundrums of understanding, I am possessed that which is the most volatile of cancers, hope. Unable to let go of history, still wracked by the visions, bombarded by the stagnant phantoms of feelings what once was, pining away for what could never have been. Perhaps solace will find me in sleep, I think I need more Tool