Its the numbing
the air that recedes one’s skin,
a void brews out of nothingness :
when someone exits unannounced
into the last ounce of warmth
remaining in this world.
What else can you add to sadness
to make it reasonable?
to make it decipherable?
to make it bearable?
there are no exits
in this existence,
we are bound
by remembrance
and forgetfullness,
the twin sisters
playing in the night and day.
Writings to Heaven 
freak it is fresh air i seek
nice post
very deep
and truly realistic
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Thanks 🙂
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my thanks to you for such quality prose.
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Lovely as always. It’s interesting how two people will remember the same event quite differently; it must have something to do with this relationship between the “twin sisters”. You describe it vividly.
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Thanks 🙂
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