The blanket of warm memories keep me captive in a cocoon of the forgotten.
It gets worse.
The ticking away at 2:30 am of my clock.
"Are you awake?"
A sliver of that vow. Its forbidden.
It is devastating.
The rasp. The tone. The tenderness.
It is the truth.
The real one. The only one that matters.
I. Me. Myself.
But it's good. Oh so good.
The sweet. The bitter.
by - #B