Over Active Imagination

Voices in my head say you don’t exist anymore.

Not that you’ve died, more like you’ve never been.

In this chatter I go and think somewhere down the line, some women that looks exactly like you, shows me her information. She has a story for me “(your name) is no more, but she told me if I were to ever find you, that I should love you in her place.”

Seriously?

Where the fuck do I come up with this shit…