i had tried my best
to put into rest
the heart that is for you;
still beating


but when your name
fills in my ear
my insides kept on
singing


the trouble with forgetting thee
was not merely the process
of    p   l    a    i    n    l   y
f  o  r  g  e  t  t  i  n  g


it was bottling up some
a s h e n   b u t t e r f l i e s
and stitching a heart that's
m    e    n    d     i    n    g