You no longer burn my mind when I picture you.
The sound of your name doesn't exactly feel like anything anymore,
If anything it reminds me of a life I no longer live,
A person I am not.
On my island of seclusion
I wonder how there was a time I was not alone,
My fingers once were soft when intertwined with yours
But after handling your hatred and repulsion with bare hands the shards have left scars that do not fade
Sometimes I forget that you put them there,
That at one point you hurt me as much as I hurt myself.
On my island of seclusion
I forget faces and voices,
Not just yours, even my own
It seems that no one ever comes and I never go