flyer

i look at that piece of paper stuck on the cold metal and remember. i remember the night when i let go of my bond tag, leaving my scarred wrist for everyone to see. i remember leaving - and destroying life-long dreams as i closed the door behind me and my heart and my mind shattered. and i remember the sour tears i never cried - i can never cry - under the bleak night as i walked away. and i remember - oh, i do remember - that particular night, when the silent betrayal was done and my heart became a bloody knot of scar tissue. i wasn't there, and yet i remember. i can still read the words of confirmation, forcing into my mind what my eyes had not seen, but that i had known all along. and then, the silence. the silence that follows after the storm, the silence that comes when there is no more blood to bleed, no more tears to cry, no more pain to hurt us because we're all pain. the silence that comes with the realization of our loss.

and after so long, and after my wounds have healed (but can such wounds truly heal?), the old pain comes back everytime i see that little, insignificant piece of paper. like a memento of the day when i was stabbed and left in a cold, damp alley to die.