XXV.

You're a ghost of who you used to be.
At least for those few short months.
You make small talk about what your past once held but your future let slip.
I want to believe you're still there.
I want to believe that you're the one i knew.
I want to believe you're still smiling, still passionate, still singing.
Before cigarettes. Before new jobs. Before new friends.
Back when the air was warm and we drove with the windows down.
But "Believing ain't what it used to be."
Right?