Undecided.
I write off and on. I can't complete sentences. Memory is on the verge of falling and never coming back. Yet memories made never seem to be forgotten; they fade but all you need is a particular smell and you've started thinking right back from the beginning. Retracing every step, wondering what had gone wrong. Now I see you, and I don't need the provocation of smell to bring memories. All I need Is a glance and I know exactly what has happened-how I fell in love with you. How you fell out of love and I didn't even know. I know why jealousy pours in and settles in as a misty grey- no not grey, its more of an alizarin crimson. Full of magnificent fury and rage. Anger having the power to kill. Yet. Powerlessly fades into grey and black. Black that sets in as a void in me. Perhaps that's why I've shrunken. 'Lovers to friends. Why do all good things come to an end'