Amnesi-a

I stare at the atrocity in front of me.  The blue, black water curses my silence.  The world narrows to this incident, this small, insignificant moment in time.  I shudder to think of the possible repercussions.  I can hear footsteps advancing towards my bedroom door.  The knob twists and the devil walks in. “Go away,” I scream. The door closes and silence reigns once again.  I hate this.  I glance down at the object in my hands, cursing Fate and her sick, twisted sense of humor.  With a quick shake of my hand I tempt the gods.  The murky water flows over the answer to my question.  The one I just had to ask.  The response I have

I still feel it… the pain.  It’s been three long years and still I wake to the smell of you on my pillow.  In the haze of my dream I smile as your sent slowly brings me to consciousness.  I curl towards the place where you used to lie and I take a deep breath, inhaling the clean, musky scent.  The subtle curve of my lips disappears and I sink into reality.  I bury my face into the softness that had long ago lost all comfort.  My tears replace the imaginary scent, shattering the last shreds of my dream.  The pain comes rushing back, smothering me with its intensity.  I let it take over; fighting just makes it worse.  Eventually the s

For a situation so abstract, so undeniably obscure...how can they quantify it? A relationship defined by poor-timing, a trial-and-error method of discovery, and general unfairness. One that, when analyzed, often makes little sense aside from the obvious; love. This "love", however, can't be measured...at least not in scalable form. It's not a matter of intensity. It's not taken up as a pulse. It's impossible to gauge as an emotional value...No. Such an irrational thing can't be put down in rational means. Like the situation, itself, obscurity is the driving theme. It's not to be seen...It just is. Sometimes it's obvious. It's the kisses up