I see parts of you behind the clouds that eat everything up around me, and I wonder. Wonder if it was you, or whether it was someone who resembles you, placed before me to ache my heart at your memory. I push through the fog and I see you dressed up and looking the other way. Am I not worth fighting the fog for. Am I not intriguing enough anymore? I know you see the parts of me you loved once not long ago. Do you not care for my touch? Would you rather us get lost in the fog?
