buried by a memory

Long days and lonely nights cast their dreary shadow. When the first star rises, I will leave you at your coffin, and you can finally rest your weary head. Still, your blackened eyes beg me with irresistible sadness. But this will be the last time. And I know you’ll never ask for anything more. Just don’t assume that I will be the first to fade away. The water is already dark with our blood, and the waves are only beginning. Your empty promises are polluting the Silence, and these words could scar. We could try to cross out the mistakes, but it won’t be pretty. These conversations are getting us Nowhere, and the words are crashing down like stones. I wish I could find a way to make you understand. But the words keep piling up in the back of my throat the way blood clots clog up the drain. So we dance on through the twilight of our journey, though the road has become unpredictable, and I don’t think we can go back the way we came. Nothing here is familiar. But I don think I would recognize Home anymore, even if it appeared. The worst part is just knowing that soon I will wander these dark streets alone, searching blank walls for answers. It would make me feel better if I knew you were safe. But love wilts like flowers in a thunderstorm. And roses are not the only thing that is red. I’m sorry, dear. I couldn’t help but notice the bloodstains on your pillows. I’m no detective, but the shade of red on your fingertips matches perfectly. So bury your smoking gun beneath six feet of lies, and paint your heart black so NoONe will recognize your face. I miss you so much once I realize you’re Gone. But you forgot my name again. And I forgot to care. The stone bridge has crumbled under my fingertips, and your last request may send you over the edge. Maybe someday things will be different. But for now, the candles’ flickering has become a Ghost, rising in smoky wisps. So I just close the Gate, and walk away.