Quietus

тωєиту-fσυя

dear jonathan,

its 5 am

now,

2 hours

before hell

starts.

im browsing

through our

old photos

and i

feel

so nostalgic..

photos are

art that

can scrape

away

what is

real and

remake

reality as

pretense.

all i

ever see

from those

photographs

are pain

in your

eyes..

like you

don't actually

want to be

with me.

oh wait.

you

actually

don't

want to be

near me.

The marks

you left

are too

often scars.

one thing

i can't hide

is when

i'm crippled

inside.

some say

'time heals all wounds.'

i do not agree.

the wounds remain.

in time,

the mind,

protecting its sanity,

covers them

with scar tissue

and the pain lessens.

But it is

never gone.

i'm living

proof

jonathan.

cambria xx