Kind of depressed. trying to erase this hole in my chest. But the imprint of your presence, the mental voice of your memory...it just wont go away.

I know you dont think of me as I do you. But I should hate you, despise you, not be able to stand you. Why then must I torture myself.

Why then, must my mind have your memory haunt me.
Haunt me of how you used to be.

flarah © me