It was never the heart.

It is never the heart,
It was never the heart,
Nor will it ever be the heart,
That makes this part,
So devestatingly hard,
The letting go,
Does not occur,
Is not processed,
Nor recollected,
In our hearts,
I don't know,
Who ever came up,
With the feeling that,
They thought in fact,
It did.

Cause it doesn't.

It is never the heart,
It was never the heart,
Nor will it ever be the heart,
That makes moments into memories,
That attains them and locks it,
Inside the guts of our brain,
That keeps reminding us,
That this morning,
We have not or did we remember him yet?

It is always the brain,
It was always the brain,
It will always be the brain,
That keeps the body in pain,
The mind is so powerful,
It demands us to feel, expirience,
The lost,
It reminds us we need to feel,
In our hearts,
To be able to process,
And work trough all the emotions,
Moments, memories, dates,
The scent of his smell,
In order to forget about,
Him.

It is never the heart,
It was never the heart,
Nor will it ever be the heart,
That hurts the most,
It's the mind that wants to keep tabs on it's gaps,
It's the mind that misses whats lost,
It was always the mind,
It is always the mind,
That hurts the most.

How could it have ever been anything else then the mind?

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