There are parts that are still
So raw and bleeding the smell
Is just too much for anyone
The pungent aroma of frailty
Acts like a punch in the throat of
My silly adoration and the core
Of what I wished for every single time
I just wanted the simple and happy story
Holding on to that with both hands
Left me with nothing but a shady soul
every vein is empty, it's dead
There's nothing but empty breaths and
A stale memory.