Tick Tock

 

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1

The sweet of it is,

he was my everything.

destined to allow me safety and joy, neither one of us to ever falter in our love.

perhaps that was how it was meant to happen.

however, left to rot, our love becameĀ 

stale,

sour,

toxic.

all connections once felt, faded away. it was almost as if acid had submerged our precious things; previous memories and thoughts melted away leaving the familiar, sickly aftertaste we all know and hate. our bridges fell to the ground, not once slowing to allow me time to breathe. a thousand clocks greet me as i drown.

tick,

tock;

i waited.

one presumes i still wait. clinging to the hope that one day, my conscience will be cleansed of him entirely.

Because over time, stale love becomes fetid.

the place where new love himself once made his home, becomes corrupted. never to be seen again by future lovers or even by my own eyes.

That place will remain deserted, a haunted paradise; the memory of him lingers.

his soft smile,

the way he wrapped his arms around my fragile body,

his mannerisms and traits. butĀ 

tick tock;

i wait.


~A chapter from a book i will never write.




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