Wednesday, February 12, 2014


Typewriter Series #658 by Tyler Knott Gregson
I dreamt of her again and I wonder when she started becoming my nightmare.

I wonder when the sight of her face, the memory of her voice, the flash of her smile -- all started sending dull aches in my chest.

It wasn't always like this. I used to yearn for that memory, that fading ember of how it used to be. I would close my eyes and try to remember her -- alive, as she once been. But those moments were long gone now. And sometimes reaching for them felt like shouting in an empty well:  voicing it all out only to find that every word you utter just kept coming back.

The hollowness kills me. It’s a punch in the gut, a twisting of the insides. She was supposed to be a happy memory. It was never meant to be like this.


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