I stare down a deep well
Old memories still accessible as a blur of pain
Like an open wound it smells of danger
every time I walk this way
Time has yet to fill it in with the dust and dirt of life in the trenches
And I visit much too often
for things to settle as they would
I’m sure they could
But they don’t
I keep sifting
like sand the memories rub my senses raw again
Long ago I decided it was worse to remember any good or neutral thing about you
For a moment it was a balm
but then like everything else it was just a bludgeon in the palm of the demon responsible for my torture
Anger is just as strong a tie as Love
and sometimes calls back to Her
when the heat subsides and I wonder what irrationality I have committed in those fierce moments
If my resentment be half-lies
so is every infatuation
I have committed to resentment as a safer place

When battle positions are none too desirous, one still must choose between them