"The human mind is filled
With infinite things. You
Never have to muse the
Same thing twice. So why
Is it that I find myself
Always imagining you?
Why couldn't you love me?
Were my words too big,
Breaths too short? My head
Is hell and these memories
Are the patch, so the only
Solution is to burn the parts
Of me that were touched by you."
~c.r.h.
