along the road

interlude

                   There are details about you that I feel I have misplaced.

            A forgotten dent in your hand. An intonation-inclination-that your voice cradled when you found yourself stumbling. Your character, your intentions, your goodwill. A touch, meant for me. A laugh placed in the wrong point of a conversation. A hand that I had never held.

                   It is strange; seeing these memories, the flashing images burning bright behind my eyelids, as real and true as this screen (and you), but somehow having them stand jaggedly beside what really happened-next to images of us sitting worlds away from each other, flickers of you being everything that you were and nothing that I expected you to be.

              Maybe you are the one who is unable to remember. The one who drank himself to cheerfulness, to adoration, to lips engulfing those that were not mine. Maybe, you have burned my touch from your memory, scratched to dust and dead skin cells the drawings that I traced against your pant leg, tore apart the feeling of having me closer than your own breath.

                      The devil does not reside within the details-he lurks in bigger pictures, in the entirety of our beings if we dare to step back and gaze, pick out the red horns from the valley of colours richer than blood. I think, the small things that I have gathered about you are not where I went wrong. The larger signs, the warning lights, the heavy clouds; those were my downfall.

               Just as you were.

☀

A random piece that doesn't feel like it fits. Every interlude will have one or two, because even I get tired of this linear storytelling (Lord knows). Anyway, I love you.

  -jay