It was Kathy I thought about

My words are fallen waxy teardrops of painful sorrow, affixed to a
respiring heart often chanting silent love songs once meant for you,
I am like butter that melts easily, further complicated by words having
pass through shattered lips, from undigested memories of you my dear,
left with this hollow burden inside sighing remorsefully against haunting
dreams streaking across my still sobering mind, chastised by your voice and
that one uncompleted love song meant to be heard during springtime, however
not.