Tuesday, April 22, 2008
My Elusive Drug
Even though he had spent not nearly enough time, by her standards, in this place the space was drenched in him. She felt him skipping the paths he usually would travel through each room. In those lines he would tread he would leave the only joy that was left to her. Today there was only an apparition of him. And it was doing only the opposite. It was savagely pulling from her the last of her restraint, the last of her eagerness and the last of her emotional strength. She had been operating on a ballooned deficit for far too long and it felt like the debt was now about to be paid. This ghost had arrive at the time scheduled for him to show. Each minute that passed where he didn't this thing was taking more of the place she had prepared for him. It came and stayed in and on memories and over wrought feelings. So real that her eyes and ears felt absolutely tricked. She had made it to the tenth hour with no idea how to make it through.
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2 comments:
This reminds me of a poem... I just don't know which one? Hmmmm.. will have to think on that.
Sometimes it frightens me, the depths you mine to come up with your writing. But it's always beautiful.
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