Slow music contradicts the heartbeat,
Lost flowery words, amusing curse,
Wishing this is just a hormonal heat,
A bug crumbling in the stomach, wild and free.
But It's always your name I call, above and beyond the surface of my sanity,
As stories start to wither away.
When the conversation runs out, you'll know
You're already losing something,
Just another dedication shattered to nothing.