Bound by this name, this description, this belonging.

Together, our people surround us, silent as softly falling snow,

Marking us.

That which went wrong. Those who are left.

Names in a paper, holding a face thankfully unknown.

The face that haunts my dreams.

I still see you.

Nothing to it really.

Clouds and lead endlessly dancing as each day slips by.

Raw. Elemental. Breathe in, breathe out.

I still smell you.

Be strong.

I tell them I’m trying, but often I’m not.

Because right now, I’m not sure I want to be what they tell me I am.

Because if I am, then you are not.

—

as