journal · prose

Pheonix (Part One)

I am minuscule and finite within the temporal confines of infinity. Outraged at my smallness, at my absolute lack of control. Over you. Over the effect you have on me. Over myself. I gaze after your inaction, watch the blank space crawl by and stretch out between us. It seeps into my wounds, perforations in my facade that were created by your lies and compounded by your silence, and I wither. I can feel myself decaying and I am powerless to stop it. Feel the distance between us lengthen, twisting at my heart, until I can no longer tell right from wrong, joy from misery, love from hate… until there is only rage. Rage, and an intense desire to set everything I once held dear on fire. I want, no, I need things to burn. You, me, the past, my soul: anything that was ever touched by you. If only time itself could go up in flames… but I will rise from the ashes, someone new.

 

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