Sad little moments bring forth such pathetic drips of drama.
I seek the base for my displeasure.
Is it only that I have to try?
Or is it that I have to compete for importance with the unreal?
Soon, it would have been a year.
Now, it could have been forever.
Lost time, lost thoughts.
No way to get those costs back.
Was, as they say, the Juice worth the Squeeze?
This is a difficult query.
I can remember the light, shining from loving eyes.
And I can remember the contentment.
The peace.
The Faith.
Memories now mocking in the face of childish arguments.
Hurtful slashes of tongues and indifference.
The worst cold is the one following the searing heat.
To know that this is dying or dead.
Feeling the void in solitude lined bed.
You want to know the very bottom trouble?
That I know I will be just fine.
That I know I will forget.
That I know already.
All along.
