I'm wondering so many things, and funnily enough, I still can't find the words... but oh, I can hint, I can drop little clues for my mind to decypher later because I WANT to remember this, I want to remember just how far trust goes and what happens when one shatters it, yes? Really, I want to remember all of this.

I want to remember how it feels to have my heart laid bare and know that one word, just one word, from twin rosepetal lips would have me on my knees or walking out the door or begging to stay or begging to leave, whatever was asked.

I want to remember how it feels to want and realize once again wanting comes from needing, comes from doubting, comes from pain. The hungers, they are all from the memories of pain, tonight. I can't and won't control them. Let the world burn.

I want to remember the moment of hesitation, poised on the brink of a cliff and knowing that one step, one movement, in just the right direction will send myself flying and take others with me, down and further down into shadows and darkness and flame, and it's beautiful down there, so beautiful that as I am engulfed I wonder why I wated even this long.

I want to remember spiral dreams, roundabouts of desire and fear, where my mind dissects my daily actions and turns them into horrorshow violence and ten-penny candy, all of it spread out in technicolor glory for me to digest and regurgitate in my waking moments as beliefs and hopes.

I want to remember lust, so I do not mistake it for love.

I want to remember fear, so I do not mistake it for respect.

I want to remember pain, so I do not mistake it for a goad.

I want to remember instinct, so I do not mistake it for conscious decision.

I want to remember who I am... you remind me of who I really am...

...I don't like who I am, you know. If that wasn't obvious by now, nothing is, and I've wasted my time writing. I like myself sometimes. I like my life sometimes. I can remember the feeling of pleasure, the contentment, being happy with life and happy with what I have in my arms, in my cuffs, in my bed.

I can remember it. But until it's here again, I can't feel it. The between-times are when my soul dies.