Shiezka

"I never thought I'd fall so far down this incredibly long dark hole…something so sweet as the sound of your feet on the floor…give me more room to breathe. I say goodbye again tonight, the third time's the charmer they say. Your words are inked on my skin…the marks of incredible love. Incredible love you fill me, incredible love you spill me, incredible love you kill me…"
After our times together I am always very aware of my senses. "Hypersensitivity" is what you call it. I still think that this was such a clinical way of describing it.
Well that time what I felt was the pressure of the wood under my head as I lay there on the floor. What I heard was a favorite song floating around in my ears. What I saw was the cream-colored trim that separated the hunter green walls from the floor. What I smelled was the fresh-cut grass outside the open windows. What I tasted was the blood in my mouth.
"Get up Amelia, quit being so hypersensitive," He said as he wiped his

There is a park that I know of where the benches are black and the flowers are wild. It is quiet but for the hum of cicadas and the chirp of crickets. The sun leans on this park as an old man to a cane. It has spent many years curling weeds over its fences and pushing tall black-faced sunflowers into the sky. There are deep grooves in its pavement that were carelessly created by pounding feet. The park cradles huge boulders that have been carefully rubbed smooth by hands young and old. It whispers the bittersweet sound of memories long gone, of lost voices and laughter from days passed by.
There is a park I know of where the rain comes in fits and starts, and where the people don't come at all. It is peaceful, yet melancholy, because there are no humans to disrupt the still quiet with their joyous life.
I return to this park when I am alone. When my friends and family have all gone, when my lovers and journeymen move along, when I find that I am walking by myself without the thought th