Black InkMature

I hope they are but wish to leave. As i make my way across the now barren floor it is calling to me, for if I am to hold them they are real and I will have to face them without his hand to wipe the tears. 

The brown stained closet door, the only place to hide it's passionate tide from sweeping me into its grasp.  Is this what I have come to find? To prove he was real? to brake his spell? I push back the dust and reach grasping the small tin hatbox. It is here, i feel it's rusted breath, my fingers caress the memory. Again I wonder if this is all real or if he is taunting me again, if the images are created in this moment, if i could handle the loss again. They do not fain, could it be? These may be the lost memories. I reach toward the happy colorful hatbox, the moment seems familiar. I pull at the tiny letters eager, the past comes flooding back.

Not unlike my own love he too the man who taught me first the meaning of devotion. His words

Oh Lovely, 

It was a surprise to see your letter in the mail this morning, I am glad to hear you are fairing well and read wholly and cherished every letter every word you have written me, though I wish I could say I was surprised by your passion you did learn from the best. For your pathetic life and that of your mothers I was grateful to be mentioned though we all know the state of affairs which are our own lives may not be pleasant they are our burdens and we must raise above and overcome that which allows us to blame others for our own faults. Months had past since your last letter and I was beginning to believe you had forgotten me. How could you those long memories ago I was also your love, or did you forget me then too. Please I wish you would forgive me for the bad times, we all have them and no one is to blame. It is only a BOY who could make a mother cry like she did that night you know and I wish you would stop blaming me I did not run her off like you did remember that boy, or was it you running? Always running. But I will always catch you, catching the fallen, that’s what I do, you know that. Until the next I finish with the words… Eternity is DARK 


The End

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