is this a form of torture especially designed for me? to torture me with the worst until i give in? but give in to what – an unknown i have no knowledge of?
my hand grasps nothing but air and memories where you used to stand.
a small kid huddling under the covers, wondering when they will break down the door and when you will meet your end.
stuff my worries away into an old suitcase in my brain.
my memories flee my grasp.
fragments of memories from the past.
the past is the foundation of the future. what use is the past if we simply forget?
a raven caws and the night falls. the lost youth aches for it all.
spring must come to an end. and, when i feel the pain of the cold bite my bones, i must say goodbye.
these memories — apart — fall — please — silence — darkness — slipping —