missing the time in between what was won't will be sometimes often didn't
easy to forget the reasonable logic behind the now seemingly nonsensical choice that left you in the current Yearn.
the sweetsour regret, softly ignored scratches the polish and veneer of worn out synapses a pleasantly blurred fastforward-lacquer
I skip the years like stones pausing fingers on the page of a smile turning my face away from the cracks stepping blithely over the day your words carried false
licking the envelope on an argument stamped To Forget.