Trash

Speak ever so softly
as to not disturb my heart.
My aching heart trembles
at the sound of your voice.
I wish I didn't get so weak
oh baby just to hear you speak.

Certain places, smells, sights, sounds
remind me of you.
With every pit patter of my heart
I slowly feel it collecting dust.
Slowly giving up hope, losing its religion.


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Sweet caresses that left their mark
imprints on the skin and soul
make me wish you were never present.
The aches of a body once loved,
pangs that inconveniently remind me
of the everlasting happiness that was in the past.