Jackson volunteered for the dangerous experiment.
Scientists advised him of everything that could go wrong.
Who knew everything would go right?
Total recall; they said it was impossible.
Memories coursed through him like blood through his veins. Every heartbreak, toddler fall, prenatal sensation. Trapped in a state of eternal nostalgia.
They said he would recall every memory.
No one knew he would relive every pain.
Jackson finally understood some things are meant to be forgotten.
Earlier today, I woke up searching for a good morning message from my Baby. When I found none, I wrote her a few separate messages. Hours passed with no reply. This little thing was born during those moments of worry.
Silence Screamed Your Name
Today I awoke
when silence screamed your name.
Now, I lay here in fear
of never having you,
and distraught that
do the same.
Please, don’t do that to me again Baby.
Photo of beautiful young lady from Google Images.
A few facts before poetry.
Earth to Sun = 92.96 million miles
Earth to nearest star = 4.22 light years
NYC to Dehradun, India = 11,602 kilometers
The Space Between You and Me
In my mind I watch you standing on the
far side of a crowded room;
a universe away.
Later tonight I will watch the stars
outside my window;
light years beyond my reach.
That is when I’ll long to hold you and whisper,
there is no distance as infinite as
the space between you and me.
Photo from Google Images.
Huddled Inside My Soul
Come to me
On your darkest day.
as shadows consume your light,
as tears douse the overwhelming fires
choking you in their solitary smoke.
Come to me
when your heart falls into the abyss
drowning in dark seas of solitude,
in a world eclipsed by loneliness.
Come to me
I can make you whole,
basking in my light,
once you are
huddled inside my soul.
Photo from Google Images
The Beautiful Redhead
She wore her red hair
like a fragrance by Chanel.
An elegant tapestry of
silky curls and waves.
The ebb and flow of her locks
calming like a starry night.
If she only knew
what I would give
to caress her hair tonight.
Photo of redhead from Google Images.
DISCLAIMER: I am the Lonely Author and I approve of this message.
She Writes For Me
No one knows our secret
Our beautiful connection
From her pen
To my heart
She writes of love
She writes of me
Perhaps she’ll write tonight
so I can read her words
she writes for me.
Image borrowed from Google Images.
DISCLAIMER. Fiction, though I wish it wasn’t.