Photocopied.

I fell in love with an idea, but that idea was fake. So I went to the idea, just to make sure, but it wasn't there. All I found was an impostor claiming to be the idea, but I knew the truth. The idea never existed. I created the idea and the idea left me with time and distance.

I remember acoustic guitars and bells, I remember the cathedral.

Warm summer days and cloud watching descend into a dark and fearful madness despite my protests, and I cannot pull her out. She wants to stay. Shallow shells hide inner frailty and superficial paths mislead.