FicWad

It

S like when your childhood soundtrack comes on. You know what I

M talking about,

All those warm and cold melodies that painted your youth with shadows and highlights you can

T forget,

The ones you reminisce with

I

M listening to those now

There

S this

Ache in my chest

It feels internal

Deep but not

Under my skin

Soaking in like it engulfs my organs

Not like a cut or a bruise

More like a scar

Phantom pain

A memory of what hurt you

I don

T what else this was meant to say

Wanted to jot this down

I feel like I

M letting go of all I

Ve ever known

It

S all slipping through my fingers like sand

No

Like dust

Or ashes

The gist of the material slides from your skin but it leaves a of what it once was

Imprinted onto you

There

S no water or anything you could use to wash it away so it stays with you

Clinging

You continue your life

Leaving prints where your fingers touch down

When you

Ve ran over things enough to suffice whatever desire you had

The dust and ash is nothing but a separating feeling

Or a ghost of a feeling

Between your fingers

You can

T remember it anymore

But you can feel it hidden away on the backburner of your mind

After a moment

Or a lifetime

Depending

You

Ve grown accustomed to the filthy feeling between your immaculate fingertips

The whole instant you kept on your flesh doesn

T sync with what you remember

Or don

T remember

In your head

You pass off the snap in the hand you

Ve been studying for a fair amount of time

In a whirl

Shake your head and scold yourself

For seeing such bullshit



It’s not bullshit and you know damn well.