Monday, April 14, 2014


There are days when the void of you beats in my chest like a bullet bursting through my heart. There are spaces of remembrance that are so strong I still feel your hand eclipsed in mine. Love is a funny thing and in the absence of its wake, I drown in my obsession of our memories. I fashion myself to the context of which we bore our reality and I, like a goldfish, keep coming back to the same places, unleashing the power of our affection over and over and over again. I rid you of my flesh and then you return in moments that I least expect.  my tears fall on deaf recollections, alone and unmoving in their solitude and regretful of words spoken to love that only wanted to love in its own way. My missing you is a great sea of heavy waters, full of mislaid promises that have no place to go and I long for you in the deepest spaces I know.

Painting: Goya

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