Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth but not its twin. --Animal Dreams, Barbara Kingsolver
This is for girls who don't understand.
Who, like me, have found their "love" thrown back at them like so many pebbles - each driving the ache deeper. For those, like me, who find that only annoyance awaits where adoration once was. Really? Who's voice is that? Really just for me, who can't exactly call him a liar but can safely say nothing was real. For me who has to get past the cold, awkward kisses of post lovers at midday and accept what is. This is done.
What can I say to myself late at night when improbability keeps me hopeful and emptiness eats me up? Why, now, does it feel so incomprehensible to long for the person who once was fond of every inch of my body?
Pieces of things slip through my fingers like sand – I can’t tell one fragment from another. I couldn’t be bothered to try to contain them all anymore – the thing has lost its shape and all cohesiveness. There’s nothing between us and I guess that’s ok.
It is without malice that I can say that I wish I never met you.
Also, if you’re in Trinidad, come check out Softbox Studios’ Christmas Exhibition and Open House. I’m honoured to be in there with Che Lovelace, Gavin Pierre, Jackie Hinkson and a few others .
Thursday 16th December 2010
6:30 – 9:00pm
Soft Box Studios Gallery
9 Alcazar St. St. Clair
Staying lovely and trying to keep my heart clean,