And there he's gone again, like the wind that breezes and whirls through my life, taking away more than just a breath and smile.

Until you're back my L, you will be at the back of my mind. That is when december comes, and the storm has settled, where winter ends with the break of a new dawn...What's 9 years in passing but a moment in time?

~ where reality was meant to be the unspoken truth.

Aren't we a match. LOLS! the same idiosyncrasies...

As the flitting shadows prance in front of the undrawn curtains,
the loner sat unmoved behind patience.
The dark stilettos of motion teased her with seduction;
to coax her out of the silence that so shrouded her.

A moth that burns easily in light.

Exposed and bare, like a naked babe sitting without a care.
The curtains now rustled faintly as she opened her watered eyes just for a moment,
then fell back down, never to open again.
All that was left were scars.
Scars of battle, scars of tears and scars of lies.
Hideous in all the failures, glorious in all the lessons.
Pride, lust and love, all tamed and laid out in one swoop for all to see and curse.
With this, the last act is to begin. Sit back and wait as the final curtain call signal draws near.
***
In a sparsely furnished apartment, Missy sits besides her dad's favorite arm chair, with a torn-up garment still held firmly in her hands. She was a woman around her mid twenties, slightly plump, yet voluptuous in a nice way. Her lips were permanently pursed together, as if in a gesture of prideful defiance. In the background, a sorrowful tune of discord and lost love pours out from the whining Hi-fi next to the mantel, and Missy begins to murmur, at the same time, gently stroking the material still in her hand.
Missy: Now dear, don't you cry. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird (raises her left hand and makes like she's wiping tears off an invisible person). And if that mocking bird doesn't sing, Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring. (Sits with a gazed look, staring off into oblivion). There, there. Aren't you pretty now my little bride?
(A voice echoes across the bare room).
No response.
(Footsteps become audible as if an empty box was being drummed over and over again, louder and louder with strength)
(Chloe enters from the left stage: She was a poised woman with a worn-out expression, presumably around her late fifties, hardened with the coming of age and with the extravagance of life that has taken toil on her simple life)
Chloe: What? Hello? Missy?

________________________________________________________________
"Stay by my side", I whispered.
"I’m afraid".
A solid hand clasped my arm and jerked me violently back.
Hair spilled around my shoulders, face bruised and swollen from acid tears,
all that's left of me is the vanity of my existence, the scalding breath of life that burns my lips.
I cannot speak any more for words merely become transparent and unformed.
The majestic rose bade my presence and for me to come hither.
By its side I quiver with uncertainty as I’ve betrayed its very kind.
I bent and picked it up, where it laid dead in its prime.
A rose plucked was no longer of value to anyone.
The shadow that had led me this far, stepped out into the light.
A loved one. The man I love.
I gathered strength in my will to exert and I coiled my passion around him,
capturing the last few drops of tears that formed before they left his lids.
With each tear that befell on my body, the scars gradually faded.
The weight seems to lift of my very being, and I could breathe again.

"Why is it you left me for dead not too long ago,
and now your back,
suavely swooping in to claim your prize,
as and when you like?
Does this mean not as much as it should to you?"

The day L left...at the airport with T. Fabulous day, even though he left. ^-^

And there was NDP! Aug 8. N bought cakes back for the gang at work...lovely lovely!