The Past...

rambling again...

     The past is never where you left it... Like a troublesome spectre leaving the ill placed chair or ottoman in your path... The photo in the hall by the stairs that needs constant adjustment. I heard the words you whispered. Your last echoes of a day kept only on aged, yellowed film... and here with me. I won't leave my tears upon your pillow. Do you wait to see me wither? I would if it would appease. I cut my wrist for you today... I see I'm bleeding only you again. Leaking treasures and scars, souvenirs and secrets, dreams and lies... shiny baubles and tears. Torn of rusted smiles corroded with salt. Don't you see it? I still bleed... I can't stand... but I'll stay. If you couldn't tell by my touch... If you couldn't tell as I breathed you... Even if you couldn't tell as your gravity drew my gaze and burned through... All of the blood and tears I've collected whisper 'I love you'. Should you like I scream it to the skies? If it flows from my veins is it really 'past'? How do we define the past? It happened and it's gone? That's no truth to be sold here. No thank you kind sir, peddle your fodder and snake oil elsewhere.  Nothing is ever really gone. We pack our bags and boxes... our attics and basements... Sometimes it is devoured and becomes. Sometimes we become. And sometimes it's the echo that keeps coming back on a ripple of time. On winds from Elysium... Ghosts from yellowed, aged film that whisper... sweet promises I can't bring myself to throw away.

Author's Note

More of my rambling... I just write as it comes... So you tell me. Have at it.

Reviews

[Muse]

Rambling at times can produce the sweetest endorphins....numbing the pain that throbs in memory. This is symbolic in so many incredible ways. I liked the mentioning of the picture frame. A reminder of something constant, but still needing some adjustments. This is life...it can be so mundane...reliving the same memories just to keep them from fading. Depressing really.

[Lucifer Jones]

Depressing... Yeah... I don't think I could avoid that here. I rely, in large, on rambling free-writing in hopes of finding beauty and those endorphins of which you speak. Thank you so much for stopping by.