i used to see possibilty, though now i only see uncertainty and inadequacy, in the marks that punctuate what we used to be.
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i used to delight in the fact i dreamt of you; now when i dream its only nightmares—you are utterly inescapable.
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i used to love to feel the sunlight hit my face, to revel in the warmth of your sweet soft voice calling my name, but now even the sun makes me feel lonely.
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i used to feel connected to the world when i gazed up longingly at the starlit moon, but that was before i knew how it felt to feel so alone, wishing i were gazing up longingly at you.
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i used to write these so you'd read them, and who am i kidding, i still do.
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i got a lobotomy to rid my mind of it all, but it turns out it left the only memories i wished the most to forget.
"the lobotomy / it took all but you"
