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Sunday Evening: The Burden of Knowledge
Our intertwined flesh, pressed and molded together, had been worth the risk of consumption. Sunday Morning Memory: A moment to cherish now consisting of fracture pieces -- an optical illusion -- an oasis of deceit. Her face replaces mine in those memories -- that perky little blonde thing skipping down your stairs, lightly passing me by, completely unaware of the existence of you and I. Sunday Evening: The Burden of Knowledge. Her Sunday Mornings spent wrapped in your arms remains protected -- a thing of beauty -- and begins a relationship by default. I take myself out of the equation for your offer of non-exclusivity is unacceptable to my heart.
Comment
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Comment by Sandy P on March 10, 2011 at 10:17am -
Love the tone in this piece. The pain and heartache comes across well. Wonderfully written!
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Comment by Eric J. Sonntag on March 10, 2011 at 7:45am -
A sweet moment turned sour. Great progression.
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Comment by Michael Brown on March 9, 2011 at 9:50pm -
Yeah, some people want to have their cake and eat it, and it just isn't fair when your heart aches. Being a possessive individual in regard to friends and lovers, I totally agree with your need to back out, even when that in itself can be painful. The heart rules. And your six rocks.
© 2013 Created by Robert McEvily.
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