Power

I keep listening to the sounds of my day. They keep passing me by like they're not here, like I’m not here. And then all of a sudden it's yesterday and you're here and I can't find you but I know you're there. I can smell you. Taste you. Feel you. And yet you elude me still. And here I am back in today where you're not here. No smell. No touch. No taste. Nothing. Your pain lingers in my soul. Bits of your past seep into my every day and stay there, sneak out for air, for fuel and creep back just as I notice they're gone. 

The pain you bring is real, is tangible, cuts into my spirit more than my flesh, bleeds from my soul more than my veins. 

I see your name, I hear your voice. I hear your voice, I see your face. I see your face, I feel your touch. I feel your touch, I die inside. And all at once I’m left with nothing. The nothing you give me, again and again.

~From some time in 2004. I might have titled it "You Can't Hurt Me Anymore". I don't recall what or who I was writing about, specifically, but when I reread it this morning, it took me back through all of those emotions. I am in constant awe of the power of words and their effects on our emotions, even out of context, even years removed.