writing

collection of my late-night thoughts & scribbles ↟ ↟

1. Words stray in her decrepit labyrinth. Streets, novels, and instrument she had once fondly adored have become a dark and intimidating place. The fire that once ignited her soul is merely a flame as I am merely two 'o clock.

Two 'o clock. What a funny thing to remember. Oh and my cologne. A smell that once filled her with content, merely tickles her nose now.

Her eyes are dull, like the sky before a huge thunderstorm. Dull and grey. Her hands are worn like bound leather and her smile is feeble at most.

I held her once.

She held me back even tighter.

A bond built up that time tour cracks in.

Hope does funny things for different people: for some it creates the will to live, for others it gives them the falsehood that there is someone out there who will help them through the heartbreak and despair in their lives.

My hope died a long time ago - it was strong before the doctors delivered the news. I remember how she looked that day.

Dressed in blue. She wished to visit the sea afterwards. She always wanted to visit the sea.

I sat from afar watching her mumble answers to a test designed to fail even the smartest of us .

She always mumbled when she felt uncomfortable.

I knew.

I knew she was gone. I knew my love was losing. I selfishly held onto the idea that her bond to me was strong enough to hold on - hold on to all the distant memories we once made and loved.

The doctor didn't have to utter a word to me - the heavy breathing, the crinkle in his brow, the sweaty palms clinging to his clipboard and the way he fiddled with his stethoscope. Stethoscopes were not designed to be fiddled with.

His words were drowned out by the ringing in my ears. I didn't want to hear them. I knew. I looked at her through the glass barrier. The blue against her pale skin. The way her nose was twitching - she needed to sneeze. The way she was examining the room, confused at the lack of decoration.

She was fighting a battle with a trickster for an opponent.

A formidable opponent, oh yes, for her mind is a sinner who will gladly be dammed for deceitfulness.