Wraith of Love

I can’t hold that memory.

It slips away into a wraith.

It leaves the scent of loss.

Hunger for answers.

For answers that have no answers.

Of questions I am pained to ask.

I’ll be earnest and deceived.

You’ll play games and be rewarded.

Rewarded with my earnest desire.

My will to please you despite knowing this trick is lost.

I’m more than this.

I’m more than a conquest.

I’m am more than your lay down misere.

Counting these memories add up to the only love I’ll have.

The love of memories.

Loving the idea that in your endeavours to reduce me to less you gave me more.

You gave me spirit.

You gave me fight.

You gave me the knowledge that love is not worth losing myself.

So I’ll let the wraith weave its rancid trail.

Wrapping tendrils of darkness.

It protects me.

It stops me from opening that place inside to love.

My guardian wraith.

The keeper of this fortress of your memories.

The memory of that feeling.

That feeling of believing.

Believing love is returned.

The wraith screams at me.

“Stop!”

The memories fill with blood.

Inside the chambers of my heart they are tossed around.

Pumped through my body.

Through my veins.

My body aches with them.

It’s not you that wants me.

It’s someone else.

But there you are.

Standing in the hallway of my memory.

Blocking the entrance through the door.

So stay there.

The wraith of love.

It’s easier if you stay.

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