And found beauty in the loss of control.

❧

Captured in our photos were the hopes of tomorrow.

As time erased the moments broken, we held onto those unspoken.

Leaving our youth to chance, we all believed in timeless romance.

With words untold, we waited for the years to unfold.

❧

And so I left my heart in a chase so my steps I could retrace.

I searched for a place where I could understand it’s grace.

And in the midst of it all, it was your laughter I could recall.

❧

And on the eve of my sorrow, I looked back to tomorrow.

Your heart I could follow, but to me it was hollow.

Our ambitions were strong, but our intentions so wrong.

And in the words of a song, it was to our futures we belonged.

Because, I traded my soul on a morning stroll.

And found beauty in the loss of control.

❧

Your courtesy is absolute tyranny to my solution.

In the memory of your skin, you find yourself a win.

Your mouth utters disgust, because it’s you I entrust.

Simmer into my little web of creation.

Your beauty is damnation, yet your heart lacks vibration.

In the memory of your taste, you find yourself a waste.

Your mind utters love, because it’s you I disposed of.

Simmer into my little web of temptation.

Your search for translation leads me no sensation.

In the memory of your touch, you find yourself outspoken much.

Your soul utters threat, because it’s you I regret.

As in all ends, I find myself accompanied by the soul and mind.

Their voices are the notes to my paper and the lyrics to my song.

In an ironic sort of manner, the die hard romantic sits quietly alone.

The one always looking in the depths, wondering where their one lies.

I’ll reach, but only to a fingers tip do I arrive.

After so many years, I can’t even remember the feeling of you next to me.

I used to be able to close my eyes and be there, if only for a moment.

I suppose the wind of winter days takes with it the comfort of your embrace.

Remnants of love float through the fresh morning air as I smile towards the summer sun.

No longer do we run through the forests like in our youth, the cool air flowing through my long brown hair, your smile bringing me all the warmth I ever needed.

And yet, the years fly by.

Oh how they fly.

Our wrinkles deepen, and our souls weakin.

Yet, we smile in remniscence.

We’ll always be the hopeless romantics sitting quietly alone wondering where our one lies.

I miss you.

As if in delay, her longing for his hand in hers took away her soul like night stole day.

Perhaps a faded scent to others, but to her it was all too familiar, all too reminiscent.

A close of the eyes and a strive of the memory, she saw herself in his arms once more. 

An illusion.

A complete confusion.

To whom to turn?

Potentials stand in line, conclusively impatient.

But of importance they are not.

Because her pains too run deep, and her words obligated she must keep.

His lips made her a slave to his desire.

So devious, so confident, and so daring.

The position was hers. Never did she fall into the category of desiring until she met him.

A mind fuck all around, he took her strength and played with it like clay in a sculptors palm.

Her patience for him never ending, it was her suffering that made him ignite.

A youthful brunette she was, at the time, completely drowned with obsession.

Her intelligence resembled his, but never leveled to it fully.

Sitting there, for days she would wait for his reply, a minute passed as if an hour, constant questions, promises unkept, and lifeless breaths.

Her heart once loved.

The light in the hotel room dims, as she opens yet another bottle from the mini bar.

Grand Marnier slides her into the rarely visited memory crematorium.

Perhaps a desire to numb, or perhaps the desire to feel herself back in his arms, either way, her vulnerable side began to show.

Could she keep doing this?

Flashes of all the victims pass through her mind like drops in a rainstorm. 

Could she?

Of course she could.

It was the dear acquaintance of an asshole that pushed her to it in the first place.

She has always preferred ripping male flesh anyway.

The lamp dims to a darkness, and the hotel sheets wrap around her. 

Tomorrow’s mission is a long one indeed.