Splish, splash, splish, splash.
Rain falls, like a soft cleanser, to wash away what's left of acid tears.
The hot, angry, salty lava drips from my eyes, leaving it's mark on the frozen skin of my cheeks. My dress, once clean and white, is stained with grass and mud, black from the fear of my indecision. The soft, cold, wet fabric clings to my form, revealing every imperfection I've ever tried to hide.
Was it the scars that made you leave? The fading, white-purple slashes on my body, lingering reminders of my addiction, an ominous warning of my insecurity?
If I build up the scar tissue, will I forget you existed? Can I hide you away in the fortress of my mind, where your image will slowly fade and your view of the world, bright and delightful, will blacken and crumble to dust?
Memories of you haunt me like a ghost, a child that's forgotten and crying. It hurts me more to see what you've become--bitter, angry, and hateful.
I miss you.
NOTE
This was actually written sometime over a year ago, but I ran across it and thought it should go in here, so I hope you enjoy this little peice of ancient history. xoxo, Brii333
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