To think of someone.

Maybe it's overdue, or perhaps it's in its expected season. Anyhow, here I am musing about a thought, a dream, a passing illusion.

The wounds are old now, yet the scars ever present. Days go by and I still experience the brief sting of reliving a memory of one once held dear.

And then last night prevailed a different dream.

A new person, a new face, and flutters in the belly all the same.

Infatuated? Perhaps. Charmed? Very.

Unrequited? I fear so.

Maybe this will lead to eventual disappointment, yet I can't help but feel this to be better than the melancholy of yesteryear. Alas, such dark times scarcely have comparisons.

Anyway, I might very well be somewhat enamoured once again, so uncanny yet so familiar...

I wonder if she feels the same.

Cake alone.

Cake alone, just doesn't feel right.
Where're the conversations between the bites?

Cake alone, simply isn't sound.
All those calories are going to town.

Cake alone, really is quite a chore.
You'll come to loathe that which you once adore.

But alas, my appetite does delight;
My impulses take flight.

Forget the solitude, the bore, the melancholy.
Tonight my taste buds shall be jolly.

Cake alone, so what if it's pitiful?
Well jokes on them, the cake's wonderful.