How is the duration of a relationship relative to what those involved in it feel?

And what part of me will beginTo forget you first; the suddenPains that shoot to my bruised palmsAs I think of you in the cover of the dark,Or the invisible handClutching at my heart, as it knocks against its savage cage,Or my still swollen lipsAs they remember the touch of your gentle fingertips?

Erupting like fiery autumn leaves between silksas skin meets skinflames that lick everythingand consume all there is.

Vanity remains a feeble weaponThe delusional wearer of it considers herself strong

In that moment, hell may have ascended,Or heaven may have descended only to save me and prove,What I carry is an exaggerated memory of an imagined beautiful love.This love is tainted with treachery; it will be my doom.

Grief lets you indulge in it, so that it can feed itself.

Pretension, dear love, does not buy truth into lies, nor alter its course.

What ravaged my mind was the thought.The thought of you.

He craved silences and solitude. He simply could not get lost in another person’s life.

Darkness disturbedBy the haunting white moonlightGrey half clouds fail to containThe moon's lust for the night.

You don't fade from within my mind; it's a flawThat I dwell on each moment, cling to youLike smoke escaping my fingers while the candles burn them raw

And then there was the way you cast your gaze, A coldness so chilling that it could cause a fire.

I pour blood on my naiveté, your apathy, and your betrayal tonight.

No, I don't miss you... Not in a way that one is missed.But I think of you. Sometimes.In the way that one might think of the summer sunshineOn a winter night...