C is for Chiaroscuro

i met someone i once knew the other day; someone i thought i’d never lose. in the years that went by, i wonder, wonder deeply — if this person has thought of me, the same way i have. maybe its our own characters: i fixate, fixate obsessively obsesssively on memories; the shared laughter, the secret code we used to have, that single moment that defined us. it is easy to turn a person on; we are but raging hormones. but to get into a person’s mind? shame on you, stay out of my soul.

i forget, i forget, i chose to forget– shame on me, flying fucks to you — i forget how you walked away when i was hurting. you left me beaten and hurting and broken and bad. you waltzed out without a care, or a look behind your shoulder. we were oceans apart — emotionally, too. but i cared. i loved, oh i loved — but i cared alone. you had no right. you had no right. i want that broken piece of me fixed. so many tear streaked letters i did not send — hidden, in the recesses of my mind– the dark cancers that lurk in my light.

my light, my gentle gentle loving light. he never hurts, and never bruises. consistent. constant. selfless. my healing, my quiet flame.


Author: c

my world, out of your reach

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