We all have pain

It's the fleating memories that remind me of that feeling of bereavement. The lose of warmth in the night or the the whispers of Nightingale in my sleep, I see you in my fruit of bear. All the fear of losing memory of what I am and where home is.

It's only me now that remembers you and I don't want that to remain with me. I can seeem to tell anyone, or even speak about it to those closeth to me. I then just realise that your love was tainted.