Throw them away

The crumpled residues of word wanks
ejected from the depths of romanticised remembrance
hued purple around the fading edges

a peck on the cheek
filled with longing and haunted premonitions
of monotone moments without me

a parting glance
that's speaks in disdain of every unneeded word on the lips of the world  
her lips barely moved
but her seven letters were the white in pages of poetry
expressed in the blood of innocent musings

she said goodbye
the lonely word sang of salt in bitten lips
of futures paid for and wished down the well
to be taunted by echoes of dust

what really happened?
these pages of climax have hardened to warped stone
now it's impossible to know
if any memory I grasp is actually mine