it is oddly empty.
a large pocket
with nothing but broken memories laying inside.
a strong smell that lingers
makes something in my heart tingle
and guilt makes it's way to my head
where i am left laying thinking for hours
trying to fix what will always be broken
it's too late now
"just focus on the happy things" he says
and as always he is right
so my mind wanders to you
and happy at last, i may rest
until light of tomorrow's struggle will awake me