Originally posted on words on life and other strange experiences:
I am sitting here, beneath the branches, swaying to the autuum breeze.
Thinking of you has taken on an obsessive character. There is a part of me, hiding like a trembling child, waiting in anguish fo a single word of you.
I resent and nurish this paart of myself.
And every once in a while, i detect a question rising in the darkest back of my head. Why did i let you take hold over my quivering heart? Is it the human nature, which keeps my cells from parting?
Do i relish in this enticing pain? My trust is dyining, in slow-motion. And i let it.
How much are we responsible for the feelings of others, of our own?
It amazes me, how easely i let myself become this needy and wanting. Yearning for something…..you.
My cave of molded memories.
But not anymore.
I dont want your words…
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