a l i v e

But you can't take them back. You've breathed life into them and now they won't leave me alone, no matter how many times I beg them to disappear, to turn into only wisps of a fargone memory. They run away. Only to run away from the mouth they escaped into my ears.

And now they won't leave me alone. No matter how many times I've drowned them in the waves of the melody, they won't die.

Because they're alive.

Undeniably.

Regretfully.

Horribly.

Hauntingly.

a l i v e .

You can't take them back. I watch as you stumble and fall over your own feet to regain what you think is still yours.

Honey, if there's one thing I've learned from this excruciating experience, it's that they can't be taken back. They refuse to be. Who wants to crawl back into the dirty darkness they once came? They hold onto me for dear life as they toss and turn in my mind, refusing to let me forget, to let my memory return to its blissfully ignorant state. A state that knew of no hatred, no such regret, no gripping fear.

As the bead of sweat stains the tan concrete and as the words surround me in all their broken ties, I fall to my knees.

You can't take them back.

Not anymore.

It's too late.

It was too late from the moment you opened your mouth.