This is not the person you once knew,
my face is dried and thin.
I haven't got the faintest clue,
how the picture remains,
nor who,
why,
or when.
I only recall some old 'honey' song
And how every line would begin,
"I love, love, love you."
As if to not speak of love was a sin.
I no longer know what to say or do,
struggling to remorse here once again.
It hasn't been very long,
but I feel I have forgotten the feel of your skin.
