Another name on the list.
One more heart amiss.
Scathingly, to false sorrow you admit,
for parting only brings new tomorrows.
I can fathom not what you think.
Is your mind the master of its will?
Deeply besotted in your ways,
saturation leaves me disheartened.
Somewhere deeply imprinted inside,
a scar that you may’nt identify;
The only proof that you were here.
Memories can be doctored,
all evidences tampered,
but this fail-safe method,
the fit of your words to my own,
Assails any shallow sense of victory.