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 |    Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
| You find a wallet. Opening it, you find ... ...a picture of your younger self, a couple old coins, a letter... I wrote that letter. Sealed it with my bloody lips. The same lips that had kissed you the night before. The useless words you never read now stuck in your head. "I hate you..." But I never did and never sent it. The coins were all I had after you took everything and left. I felt there was no reason to continue living. I was young. I was stupid. I kept your picture so I could sit on it. It felt fine snug in my left back pocket. I don't need it now to remind me. Your face is on the news. Everyone knows your name. What fame could ever be tarnished by a couple old coins and a bloody letter? I just left my wallet where you could find it. No one will know that but you. And no matter how hard you try to forget, you can't. And no matter how hard you try to find me, you never will. © Kåre Enga 2012 67.861 |
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