i was.. so tired as pen fell from aching fingers, finished before a proper beginning,
love faintly scrawled, screaming at me from the whiteness it was.. do you remember how we used to speak with a pause, there,
between a feeling.
it takes so long, so long
to articulate a moment with you, longer to know that it really is, was, could be.. could you be, stand here, not beside me..
"no, i really couldn't".
i always saw you ache, the penetrating pain slicing my weakened flesh deeper still, i know,
you're dying.. until you c
lose y
our eyes.
i lifted myself over soft curve and then, there was a pole, or a stick.. and
i stood atop it briefly before i fell into the space next to it, trapped between a wall, and another gentle curve. further, i wanted to push onward but.. it was easier to remain and so,
i did.
d.eath