fragmented memoirs of a dead love

aromatic flowers lingering as the stiffness of your stare is as it were...before, after, now

nothing lies behind those eyes...maybe just maybe the constant desire to feel relevant even when that desperation costs you

playful things and constant remembrances entertain you in your mental captivities as the world crumbles around you

hide and seek, the games you play are never ending 

parroting thoughts and acting as though there lies confidence in your knowing gives you an illusion suitable enough to stay

nothing is nothing and so you will see that when you provide such falsehoods nothing will remain or can be

desecrated by your need to be something you are not is devastating

in your depths you know, there is an emptiness, an abyss that can never be filled...you know you will never be relevant enough to matter because those who have abandoned you left, never to return, never to be more than vacancies...

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

The loneliness and barrenness that flow from this one are heartbreaking. It is if the show is over, even while the lights are still on.

[AKhaus]

Yes! It’s a said play to watch knowing the tragic ending is inevitable. Thank you for reading

[AKhaus]

Sad play I meant to say