The fine lines of you on my skin. Pencil marks. Rubbed out, rewritten, but still felt with fingertips. The tragic melodrama of endings and hurts made loud with a trapped, mirrored rage. Gone now. Distant past murmers in the great cavern of my undiscovered self. An echolocation to who I once was. A smaller yet, some days, more vivid self made of sound and colour and white hot radiance. Untouched by disappointment or despair or loss. One dimensional maybe, but fierce and unwary. Bold and brave and wild with possibility. Unlined by you. Untainted by all the terrible beauty of love.


2 thoughts on “echolocation

  1. kyknoord says:

    Outlined, defined, maligned.

  2. dolceii says:

    you rhymed!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: