But we are too young they say. We don't know what it is to feel. And so this not yet matured heart has not yet mastered the act of forgetting. In my box full of 72 colored crayons i have been given, they overlooked the 73rd, an erasor. You've etched yourself in me permantly, and filled in the spaces where i was blank; there is no letting go now.
(
Read more... )