Some people remind me of a campfire,
a source of eclectic senses:
the smoky wood,
the evolutionary fascination of the flame,
the warmth and chill of a starry night.

Others remind me of a snow day in grade school,
a source of jittery incongruence:
the sprinkles of white,
the disruption of monotonous school work,
the mischief of nature coming to the rescue.

You remind me of an early morning rain,
a source of calm melancholy:
the soft droplets on leaves,
the lessened saturation from the overcast,
the heightened realization and contentment of one's existence.

The essence of people
epitomized as scenes and collective experiences;
it is not so much of what it is
but rather how it makes you feel.

I am always just a version of myself.

Have I ever really known the full me?
Not necessarily.
She is but an aggregation of all the experiences she's ever had,
people she's ever met,
memories she's ever made,
even the ones that have been lost to time.

My personality, speech, and mannerisms are all imprints made by passersby.

Need I know the full me?
No, not necessarily.
Like stained glass that misses the details,
I am a mosaic known only in concept and suggestion,
and this is enough as inhabitant of this body,
even if the resident is unknown to self.

Those words were painful to hear when you told it
I don't know if you know it
Because I certainly don't show it
And won't bring it up in conversation
Only via written representation
Can I say it without hesitation
So here goes it...

You know you lied...
(To yourself mainly)
A total fabrication
One that destroyed my vision of someone sacred
Altered love to blind hatred without persuasion
From which I'm now trying to retrain
Because I've missed out on important days
That should've been filled with celebration

Why not just give me an honest and open statement?
Like what you asked of me from an early age...
Was it to minimise the ache?
To save face from something failed?
To create distance from the ways in which you assumed everyone would frame it?

Anyway
That's me saying it as plainly as I can say it
About the way that you behaved then
And maybe
Just maybe
What I've said here will aid you
Bring closure to anything remaining
So that each and every day
You can pave more of your way
In coming to terms with all the hating
That you seem to linger in after waking

far past the horizon
is where I wanted to go
The day was ending
and there was still much I did not know.

Without caution,
I planned my trip.
Without distraction,
I was ready to skip.

In twilights arms the memories came back
as all my years put me in a trance.