blade

That opening gap, the hollow fills with night wind. That half-guilty irritation, that unsettling discomfort, when you want to sever a connection, but the other party persists--for veritable years--in his/her pursuit of the long-dead friendship. Teeth on the cards, still playing on the gamble that the lack of definitive word on the subject, on your part, is acknowledgement of its continual life.

I cannot as of now bring myself to say it straight--but I've lost all desire to speak to you. Verily, it agonises and imbalances me to have to remember everything I associate with you, your words, your intentions. I thought I'd bypassed that frame in the reel, but you seem to keep stamping your presence upon the present, reminders of a time and a world I'd rather forget.

Can we say our goodbyes and pretend we each never knew the other? Pretend our faces left no imprints in each other's memories? I want to forget the section of my life that you are chained to in my mind. I want you to stop returning. We were never close to begin with.