He lies because his mind's eye has his vision distorted;
he believes what he sees and what he sees is truth.
His reality; a stained glass reflection of what used to be
covered with the fingerprints of one he still sees;
proof that she somehow still exist in his world.
A world he has and continues to shoulder on his own,
an indecisive burden,
undying contention,
the effect of weight and the cause of emotion.

Effortless was this load when he was around her
But with each step she took,
ten times heavier,
plus ten miles further,
plus ten degrees colder;
the sum of a universe existing without her.
But things will get better he says
and everything is going to be ok.
Her warmth will eventually return to him someday.
He can already see her, she's waving and she's already on her way,
when in actuality she's only saying goodbye.
These are not tears of joy
but of pain that she cries.
But his mind still paints a forcast of untainted skies,
suppressing the the storm that lurks behind.

A heart, a heart etched with the infinite promise of eternity,
embedded int he fine fibers of his identity,
that unravells, intertwines with the fabric of reality,
forcing it to conform to his seeming lack of sanity.