Seems my brain refuses to allow you to be a memory
Saying the storage is at full capacity
Or is it my heart that pleads, beating into eternity
Gray of shade is being rightfully placed, its getting harder to picture your face
yet your voice is still sending pulses to my brain, remaining
yet gone without a trace…
I guess this is how it works when you’re going insane
Have you not grown tired of this place
Directionally moving past the pain, yet some days feeling completely drained
In need of rubber, the kind that can erase, not remaining one single trace
My heart now held together with sutures of lace…
Continuing on with this one man show, some things must be faced alone…
thaisswrites 