Wily Reminders

You'd have thought that I would have learned how to
put away childish fears,
to lock them up as if in a toy chest.
Somehow, they still captivate me,
and, in turn, I give them the
breath of life.
I think that they surreptitiously
followed me here,
hungry
for that peripheral glance of
terror
in my eye.
They are bound to me - and I to them.
I am faced with the grotesque decision to
endure them for a lifetime or
to cut off my foot to release the shackles that
bind us together, rendering me a
cripple.
Crippled either way. How obscene.

They haunt me,
and you haunt me, too,
since your presence still lingers here.
You used to help me overcome them.
I suppress them (and you) the best that I can
because memories cannot be erased.
Only forgotten.
And the memory of you is too sweet and forever etched in my mind
to ever be forgotten.
I love how you always smelled of Dove soap.
Sometimes I buy a bar and place it near the tub.
I love that you were so earthy and real -
real enough to convince me that even now as I think of you,
I might not be daydreaming.

Time doesn't heal all things, and whoever said that,
I'd like to shoot them square in the face.
My emptiness resonates with the sound of your voice,
only emphasizing the vastness of that loneliness.

I smoke clandestine cigarettes laced with apathy and ruin.
It is such a smooth elusive cancer to inhale.
They numb me
and make me crave another
to help me choke back a cry for you
because I'm so afraid.
You'd have a fit if you could see me now,
because 'dammit, col, you're smarter than this.'

I mumble something under my breath that even I can't make out -
something about...daysarenumbered... and...countyourblessings...
The thought was so quick that I couldn't even catch it.

Still, I'll continue to
ache for relief
because these
wounds don't seem to heal
and i only ask for just enough memories of you
to live on.

All the while, I am
terrified
of what happens now
without you here to guide me.