Rotting With Time

I cannot remember The lips that I've kissed, why, when, and how. I can't still recall The number of hearts I've broken and the way they bled. I cannot remember The days I've lived, why, where and how. I can't really imagine The essence of my existence and when I will die. I cannot remember The chances that I have missed, why, when and how. I can't reminisce Why I tried to see when there was nothing in sight. I can remember The pains, betrayals, stabs and the wounds on my sensibilities. They're easy to correlate And I know I'm in prison because I loved and trusted with my soul.