I decided to live my life from a list of towns and cities.  I believed in the map you drew with my bare eyes.  Your eyes were on the door.  You held me so close in your arms (so tight it hurt), but pushed me out the door with your heart (so fast it hurt).  And yet, you held me so close in your arms and then pushed me out the door with your heart.

I decided to live my life by  the lyrics of my favourite song.

I decided to live my life from a 10 point plan written on a yellow post-it note, stuck to the back of my diary.

I decided to live my life the way someone else wanted me to live it.  I believed in the map you drew with my bare heart, even when it led me round in circles and always back to the same place -to no one, to nothing, to the end of autumn.

I decided to live my life from a list of towns and cities.  I believed in the map you drew with my bare hands.  When my hands tore at the city, the city turned to burning ashes, the ashes blew into the sea, the sea flowed into streams, the streams eventually into the taps from which we drank.

We mourned the end of autumn long before it was due.  We grieved for drowned babies (and believe me, there were plenty).  We despaired over the heart we shared when we realised we would never see each other in the same light again.  We drank more wine.

With the end of autumn came darkness and dread, the loss of communication, then eventually, nothing.

This entry was posted by Krissi Musiol on Saturday, August 8th, 2009 at 5:48pm.
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