Black Veins

A short (short) piece about pain of loss

Black Veins

I cannot subtract what is you from what used to be me. You do not belong to me, but somehow you are everywhere in me, making me belong to you. And, you do not even know it. Ignorant of the fact that there is only one you, you think I will move on. As if I ever could; impossible. So deep are the scares of the lonely night, there is no release. The magnitude of your impact on my entire being is unfathomable. Like a fable from another existence. Yet, it is the truth. Naked and without cease, without rest. I might try to kill the memory, fill the void. Mend. But it makes no difference because you are everywhere, the memory of what used to be. Running black through my veins is the curse of rumination. I belong to the realm of melancholy as sure as if it were branded on my skin. Invisible, yet so entirely defining this bond claws me, seizes me. Paralysing. Undying.

 

 

Now, tomorrow, infinitely.

Author's Note

All comments welcome and appreciated! :)