Late Night Thoughts

I never think of us during the day. Everything around me effectively drowns out the memories, the images and mental videos I've collected in my mind.

My mum would tell me to clean my flat, remove everything that reminds me of you, but you're in the walls, and nothing short of moving would rid me of you. I love my flat, it's tiny, but full of all the things I need and overflowing with things I don't need but keep anyway.

My mum would tell me to clean my flat, get rid of the clutter and clear myself, but my soul is full of love, and I'm afraid that clearing away everything will empty me too. My flat stays cluttered, I can’t lose you again.

I can't remember your face when I'm at work. Everyone around me fills my vision with new faces and different voices. It's like having the radio tuned in between two channels, two beautiful songs and lots of static, enough to keep me occupied.

My mum would tell me to keep a journal, write down all the things you did to me, make me see the bad things, but what do I do with all the good? How you always ordered dessert first, the way your hand fit in mine, your breath on my neck just before you'd kiss me.

My mum would tell me to keep a journal, to sort my life out, get a fresh start, but I'm at a standstill. I lost my momentum when I lost you, I stopped caring when you took your love away, I became the nothing that you loathe. My journal lies empty, there are no words to fill its pages.

I tell myself it doesn't matter. Somehow time goes by, people live and love and lose, and I'm still breathing. My heart's still beating, my feet keep walking and my nights are long. I think of us, what was and never was, what might have been and never will be.

Your face, I can draw every line, but I'll never again feel those soft lips kissing my neck. You would tell me we're all made of stardust, we're all a part of the universe, but I'm thinking they ran out when they made me.

There are no sparkles, no rays of light, no nebula giving birth to new stars inside of me.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This is such a sad yet common tale. Having been through several failed relationships Icould relate to many of the sentiments. So well written in a forlorn and longing echo of a voice.