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She watches a drama on the television calendar pages flying from time’s prying fingertips showing her, reality is slower, trudging , dragging in its pain; she paces quietly, wandering down lonely stairwells of her memory, her feet shuffling, slipping on loose tiles of broken promises. the floor is covered in his tracks, decaying leaves of fickleness, letters of blotted ink, thick gray scratches;  his unsaid goodbye, lingering heavy and stale, the air filled with the smell of him, scents of his self doubt and insecurity.
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Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 1:44 AM UTC
Nostalgia
She watches a drama on the television calendar pages flying from time’s prying fingertips showing her, reality is slower, trudging , dragging in its pain; she paces quietly, wandering down lonely stairwells of her memory, her feet shuffling, slipping on loose tiles of broken promises. the floor is covered in his tracks, decaying leaves of fickleness, letters of blotted ink, thick gray scratches;  his unsaid goodbye, lingering heavy and stale, the air filled with the smell of him, scents of his self doubt and insecurity.
fuckyoupo
Written by
Filipino
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 1:44 AM UTC
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