Everytime I start to miss you, I push these thoughts away to a corner.
I think to forget you, but a voice tells me memories don't wash away that easily.
A part of me says I don't want to either; I just don't want it to hurt.

Everytime I remember you, I tear a little thinking of the heartache.

Whenever memories wash uncalled for to my mind,
I think...
It's ok right? If I just boxed them up nicely now, on the shelf.
One day I'll let them shine properly.