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