“how sad and bad and mad it was – but then, how it was sweet”
― Robert Browning
Chattering for the past.
I try to grasp the reminiscence notes.
The melody is bittersweet.
I dance with memories in my hallucinating solitude.
My scars are bare. A testament to what once was.
What could have been scratches and picks at them.
Bleeding for the remains of love, buried in a transcendent alcove.
The devils hide there taunting the mind.
Only satiate when I drown in grief
and choke on the ashes of yesterday.