Vignette #4

I look at you and I think to myself that you are all I have ever loved. Your bloodlines run cleanly down your arms and I understand how when you were made, you were made delicately with all the details and hand prints of someone certain to be whoever they chose to be. I know with all my soul that you are acid, you are imaginations running wildly through my mind, you are merely a hallucinogen that ducked into the small spaces between my eyelids and my brow bone without my noticing. I can still see the echoes of your first smile, the first one you gave to me, the one that was created by me and silenced by me and continued in memory of me. I remember it well. I see photographs of you and photographs you’ve taken and I know that it is alive in me still, will always be. How can you kill something that flutters about with all the strength of a broken dove, with all the tenacity of a restless girl in the middle of the street staring at the sky. I don’t understand how I lost, how I got here. I don’t understand how the world continues to be all that it was before us after we have parted ways without another word. Who are we but puppets to something more divine, and why is it that I have lost you, my very best self, my very best love. I want to be your friend but my feelings pour over into your hands and I cannot stop them. And that reminds me of your veins, your lifeline, I can see it all now. Your bloodlines running cleanly down your arms.

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