Dear Friend.
I know you saw her too, that upheaval that pushes me and prods at my head.
That feeling of disappointment knowing that, even though she smiles back, it means nothing to her and she will forget me within instants. I've never forgot a face, not ever, but I have a greater memory for that which is more frontal. If I could draw then I could paint her, inch perfect, from memory and with my eyes wired shut. Her very existence plagues my mind.
I wish it wasn't so, but what can I do.
I am not good looking enough to even get a look in to her. Don't get me wrong, I don't think she is shallow but I am just realistic.
A thing of such beauty deserves a real man.
Not me.
I Remain
The Deadman
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