Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The Only Part That Makes Sense At All


I know that they will never mean anything - our words, or memories; just nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing - token matches against the dimming blackness, delusions of memory.

I have no reason to believe anything that transpired did anything of the sort - that seems too fanciful a fiction - the two of us sharing anything in common, let alone a past. What would you have seen in me? I know fully well what I saw in you - see in you - but that is not what is  hard to conceive - in fact, that is the only part that makes sense at all.

And that is the part I hate about myself.