The name used to be on that page, a smudge next to the others. If you squint your eyes you can almost see it, below the surface. Almost.
My dreams are so very far away, yet i can taste, feel, even smell them. I have a hunger, a desire to reach for them, but my hand falls aimlessly through the stardust they leave behind. Old dreams are fading away, but i will stitch them to my heart to stop them...
A scar on my heart rips open to reveal my emptiness.