hERe tHeN gOnE....

I am what I have done... a karmic retribution and twist of fate gone array. Once the perception of being loved in return appears, why does it lead to something so hungry to dissolve every ounce of that... the twisted, dirty rag squeezing every last possible drop. The eraser demolishing every written line on our black board just in the span of a day. How is it possible to erase a year's worth of words in just a few hours... every emotional vowel... each heart felt syllable? It all seems to rest on a psychological teeter-totter, never reaching the same parallel at the same time. This imbalance has further pressed the momentum to the point of falling off into the dirt, just to rub your head in bewilderment.

The empty bottle was apparently not so empty and while blind sighted by trust, there was no warning when the cap blew off... but then again... what IS trust when left in the hands of another. If I remain NOT the reason then why are you running for cover in the opposite direction just to leave me in the rain without an umbrella? A contradictory attempt to save me from swallowing "the poison" has only left questionable doubt. It is this same doubt that locked those wooden doors with nothing but a microscopic peep hole to something bigger. That same whole you discovered upon remarkable entry is left feeling nothing brighter than a dull rusty shed upon your abandonment despite the beauty you claimed it had. Those same doors want to only close in deeper.

When given the opportunity to share in the beauty no one else had witnessed, it proved only to be a trophy which you just now left on my doorstep once your insecurities and hang-ups caught up to you... your own self-prescribed poison.

I want nothing more than to share with you the joy, the sadness, the beauty, and ugliness however... suddenly your no longer there to receive it. A loss of common ground seems paradox when the facade of it says it may never have even existed. Skepticism was dormant in the beginning when I was constantly placed on a pedestal and just as predicted I proved to be human and suddenly the pedestal has transcended into a grave for what was once wonderful is now deceased.

So where is my warning that was promised? A year of sweet nothings and warm skin just to sit in an hour's notice without access to communication while your swimming within your tormented contemplation forcing me to be prisoner of mine. Seems a fair trade... ?

Ive marched into battle while risking everything just to return to news of no war at all with dented armor in worse shape than before. What was to be acquired in all that? A lesson? Sure... but a lesson with no victory none the less. The one emotion you wished to not leave imprinted in my heart is the one you left me with. Had I been informed the bottle was near full... I could of toughened up to help guzzle the contents to prevent it from exploding but was never given the opportunity to do so, even when little warnings crossed into the horizon just to be silenced by you.

At the start I made my prediction clear and regardless of being pulled astray look at where we've landed.

I predicted right.

Next time you should pay attention.