Emoting false interventions,

      Sensory falsely rationed inaction idols communicating a remission of action amidst endless excuses never witnessed an unheard heart interpreted achings, Held invisibly back however greatly we've vowed love unto them, Intertwined with lies we only tell each spitefully loved other at the weekends, Half intoxicatedly walking our tongues through ancient barely relevant transcripts pretending to describe our next course of... Nothing, Action comes on New Years and possibly amidst our entombed melancholy on Monday(s) whimsical resolution rarely met, But otherwise... Idle are our greatest inventions of hope and all her subsequent intent!

In lieu of...
Our torn pieces,
Being picked up!