Bridges burned we’ve made our path, you and me. One barely alive without the other. Red and yellow paint the streets around me, streaking light past my window. The sun sinks down behind these hills, the darkness settling around us. Your kiss still on my lips, like the scars on my pale skin; apparent to the world. The walls are closing in, making it hard for me to breath. Like blood against this shattered glass we’ve been left. The heartbeats faint, the breathing shallow; I’m losing it. The wind whirls around us like a storm destroying everything in it’s path. Our hearts are broken, burned to the ground. The noise in my mind growing louder, making it harder to hear your voice, calling out for me to save you. The memories I entertain until they, like you disappear into the ever-present darkness. Soon your memory will not have been; your existence erased from me. You whisper to me of a time when the world was bright, but my mind is closed to that which I do not know. A stranger you’ve become, a stranger they say you must stay. For my survival hangs in the balance, but your heart weighs on the opposite side of this scale. You have been made an idea, a sad idea my heart banishes from my thoughts; a mere illusion to my clouded eyes. My body wills me forward, my mind keeps me back, my heart left fighting between. You beg for me, your pleadings fall on deaf ears. But still my soul is yearning for a time I cannot remember. Your touch is familiar on my hot skin; who is this stranger in my presence? You brush my cheek, your fingers like ice, so cold. I pull away, tears forming that I do not understand. My mind shuts you out for the safety of my healing heart. A stranger you’ve become, a stranger they say you must always stay. But your heart weighs down on the opposite side of this fixed scale.
Memory Is A Tricky Thing
November 28, 2011