t is for the constant torture my heart feels, the aching, the pain, the slow beating. The torture of crying myself to sleep as I try to let my heart breathe without you. Safety miles and miles away, as closure stares at me from upon the horizon that keeps shifting its placement. So easily hiding itself neatly between the ocean and the sky.
Tortured I walk through our history, trying aimlessly to figure out were did it go wrong. When did you take another road than me. For how long was is parallel to mine? Or did you just take a quick one-eighty, forgetting what we once ment to one another?
