Pisaries Creator

Bits of cheese stuck to the surface.
That was my heart.
I know.

Eating my sorrows away slice by slice.
Wanting more.
Not getting anything.

So easy to throw it away in the plastic bag.
Out of sight.
Not on your mind.

Gnats and flies competing for the leftovers.
They annoy you.
Swat them away.

Clumps of cheese is a slice of heaven for them.
Buzzing around.
Coming back again.

They are simple living things unlike him.
Stop when satisfied.
You don't.

So hard to scrap off the residue.
The vibrant memories.
Gone sour.