Thoughts

In fucking tiring constant combat with the recurring memories of before fiesta  making my stomach feel so quesy as bile rises up my throat. With putrid thoughts of you that simply sickens me. Haha. How much things have changed such that you no longer succeed more than just skimming the edges of my mind with your nauseating existance. Such deception of yours which had once upon a time made butterflies flutter in my stomach. Oh you have transformed me, but to obliterate or exterminate all sources of you from my mind indeed inconceivable. Your memories are all but impervious. Oh yes indeed i've gotton through, I just never get over it.