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She a sick and diseased infecting
I'm in the middle or a war. Heart Vs Mind. My mind said 'shes gone we are over her and have moved on'. My heat said 'no never not yet not ready'.
Shes an oil spill of my heat. I think it's all cleaned and I have moved on. More comes to the surfaces and I have to start moving on all over again. At night the battles are fought the war boldly rages on in
my dreams.Me the victim of its horrible night marsh campaign. I'm forces
to watch and relive the all the times we had are replayed again again
.
I can feel her, likes shes with me again I feel the love she gave me
the warmth , the joy. That whats she is a joyful nightmare.
She a sick and diseased infecting cancer virus of my heart. I want her cut out of me and. Quarantine from all humankind, for she is an Pandora's box.
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