Fingers shriek across the keyboard in a violent torrent trying to desperately rip these feelings from my heart as the silence of this place slowly kills me and the void of separation consumes my flesh one bloody chunk at a time. All the while I’m tortured by the rapture inducing memories of long fingers digging into my back, the taste of ecstacy and the lingering scent of your neck that seems so lost now in the fog of my present inability to focus on a single moment like trying to see the face of a ghost by candle light. Childhood lessons spring forth with one small glimmer of light in the darkness as I now come to realize that if the world should have it’s way with me that you will be able to survive and be happy without me in it.
