why don't you mind this memory of mine?

That memory is collecting dust in that corner of the room which the window can't see it.

Stuck in a perpetual drip the strings are calling me into this spiralling.

The pattering of the rain on the roof as the thunder pierces into this caustic cloud.

What sense does it make to love like that?

Why feel so much to fall like that?

I can hear the water coming up to my door as I sleep through another memory I wish to ignore.

What sense does it make to love like that?

Why stretch my heart until it cries?

I can feel the pressure of this wall caving in as I try to forget everything that made me seem alive.

What sense does it make to love like that?