This is genuine.
Were you by any chance an addictive drug I consumed when I was on the highway of life with the wind and rain lashing against me?
Were you by any chance my battle field where I began something so stressful and draining as this?
Why am I still writing about you when I was supposed to budge and walk miles ahead from where I was stranded?
Was there any chance that if the sun on our skies was brighter we would have possibly seen through each other’s worthfulness?
There are high probabilities that the mist was stronger than ever and the fog filled in my eyes I could hardly see through. Or was that in your eyes?
Why am I standing here when I was supposed to have walked miles into my rather placid days ahead?
Why am I still tick tick writing down on my phone when I have hardly figured out ways to text better and store well in my new phone because I had to give up that other phone. It had memories that tore me apart every morning when I woke up?
Why am I still thinking about you when all I did was to get you out of my damn head?
I changed a phone, a lifestyle, a complete personality…..why then haven’t I changed my rusty mind that has clinging pieces of rusty memories of you all over that I hardly put the singlest of efforts to move it out for the new ones to take its place?
Why am I unwilling to stop writing about you when I know I have erased every trace of you from the walls, corners and shades of my heart?
If I were to stop writing, maybe I would run out of words and ideas for my journal,page or blog. You stayed in the racks of my mind like a dictionary full of words and biblichor that I somehow loved to smell every time I opened it. Redolent in its own addictive sense.