Bits and pieces of my numbered story

In a sea of caps and gowns, I find her. I trace my finger along the soft edges of her face in attempt to feel her again. Her wide eyed expression and innocent smile made her seem like an untouchable porcelain doll. Observing the photograph in deeper concentration, I try to memorize even the tiniest freckle, the vaguest dimple. I will not allow myself to forget her. Sometimes at night when I lay down to remember her features, my mind is blank. I can search the corners of my mind for hours and come up with nothing.

A year ago today marks the anniversary of that night. Occasionally, the memories of August 23rd invade my mind. Occasionally, I let them invade. No matter how much it hurts to remember, it brings me closer to her again.





The toxic kiss burned my crimson lips as soon as it touched them. My lips met the rim once more, yearning for danger. Impatiently, my mind waited for the pleasure. Slowly, I felt my true self melt away.