Zona

I write to no one. I write to myself

When I think of those days so long ago and how it made me feel to know that I was the one you trusted your heart to. When I think that in exchange I handed you my soul that would some day be cast into some great void. I recall how we danced and twirled again and again while the summer music played aware that summer's end meant our end. I try to bring back those words and laughter that fell like autumn leaves and were wind swept down abandoned streets.

But I cannot. Those two people don't exist anymore. I'm sorry falls down an abandoned wishing well that once caught shiny coins as we watched them flicker like butterflies into the depths. Careless abandon of what was real and what was created in a panorama scene left rooms abandoned and covered in dust neglect these so many years now.