Day 8 - The Old Friend

Hello again, you.

The one that creeps silently from the deepest pitch-black pit of this decaying world. I thought I'll never see you again. But I was wrong.

Like many things that people called coincidence, you came unnoticed. The slightest brush of the tip of your fingers to my temple has turned the red into black, the light blue to dark, and wherever I laid my eyes on to, everything seemed gray and bleak and doomed.

You've been my very patient friend. Unwanted, yet patient. You wait from a safe distance, observing, obediently making mental notes, scheming the what ifs and should'ves, and when the time comes, putting them all together--with the slightest brush of the tip of your fingers to my temple--in a mixture of hurt and longing, materilalizing into one single pain that keeps pulsating and growing and spreading, speeding through all of my veins, faster than the bullet, ricocheting into my brain.   

Hello again, you.

The one whose kiss sucks the living shit out of me; the one most intimate, most passionate, and most lethal; the one single massive hue that couldn't be neglected.

Hello again, darkness, my old friend.

Stay a little while longer. I'm so fucking tired.