Taking Steps Back..

It was then that I knew. The snow falling. The quizzical tone of surrender in your voice. Every bit of it promised disappointment. You were gone. More so for me. Because what excuse had I to keep.

It was then that I first thought you'd be better happy without me. Knew your fate was not mine to have. Not that I ever thought, but I'd flirt with the idea sometimes. Talking to you as if you were already gone. Because they always leave us before we can let go of them.

Family and friends say I am lost. They'll tell me to try and find. But I prefer not to look anymore. I've already seen all the colors the rainbow lays.

They'll tell you it should be enough. That the hurt only proves. They'll tell you all sorts of things. Because they know you'll listen.

But I can't hear anymore what they're saying.

Our time was then. And now is all I am. One wing tries, but isn't sufficient.

Truth comes in sudden bursts and there is nothing I can do. Except watch the explosion.

Artifacts.

So saturate the changes with yourself. Follow the shadow as heavy feet lurch forward. Or appear to. I was myself. Always. Until I let them become. With a broken pen I wrote letters myself. And all was well until it came time to mail them.

There is the mirror in cool disconnect. Magnifying every fraying thread on the screws you twist. There is the envelope as it follows every letter. Fitted like skin to that frail skeleton you write. There is the ink. In hues of the deepest color. Flowing like blood to the end of every single vein in your paper skin.

So much we are. But have never been.

The nothing collects each moment as tomorrow tempts waning debates within. Distilling truth from lies.

Neither quenches my thirst. But both are addictive.

Dangling Particles

It was ugly. As most things are. Blank with futility. Corrupt with hope. As sweet as the first taste. As sour as the last. Every vine betrayed.

With a glance we were closer. Together. The scent of fear my aphrodisiac.

Only subtle shadows dare distinguish us from each other as I looked on astounded at what I had become.

It's not the hunger that is hard to bear. It's only the hunger that I trust. It's the echo as the emptiness quakes under your skin. And through the sound. From the vibrations you feel the utter hollow that is there.

And all I want is to feel whole again.