Everyday, I look at myself in the mirror. Every moment spare, I wander into my mind. I play make-believe where in this world of mine, everything I did wrong, everything I should have done right, anything where I could give the freedom to reach you, is undone or given.
They say logic overcomes the heart, and this is a fine example of it all. Why did I simply forget you existed at all? I guess nursing a wounded heart, maybe that I made, maybe we created, maybe you gave me was all it needed for me to lose myself in the moment that now, I wish so much was different. Can I say sorry for breaking pieces of your heart? I can only show you the fragments of mine as a truce to how much I know it pains and how much more I feel the restraints.
I have to shroud my heart, live a small mask amongst all the faces that watch me, for deep down I dreaming the touch of your skin, the taste of your lips, the caress of your fingers, all the small things that between two is often for granted. Building all th