Time has passed over the hurt, and our mistakes have been transversed, and things continually change around that pain point in each of our lives...but we fail to notice it, like the tired traveller on a bus who naps through the sunset and wakes disconcerted in the surrounding darkness.
We blunder onward into that black forecast, wiping the memories from our eyes with petulant fists of frustration. The vision clears briefly enough to ache, then blurs into misgivings, then crosses focal paths in a nexus of care and hate, then blinks to forget. This happens 33 times a second, and is relived in new actuality with each rendition.
Walking across my dreams, midnight and silent, your footprints whisper into my daylight hours. I know that you see life differently after my time with you. Two broken people plod into everyday drama with broken perceptions and burdened with passionate distaste.
We are still together in that we are both half-ruined, missing our love, stinging from errors, unable to trust, and blindly moving on...forward...ahead...until gone.
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2 comments:
This is one of my favorite writings I ever did for it came flowing out naturally and it is truly heartfelt.
Very colorful and visual in how you expressed those thoughts and feelings. I especially like the bus rider methaphor... very real for me.
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