Disorientation

Walking through another door, but it’s so very different this time around. The images haven’t changed, the sounds are all still the same, but my feelings seem amplified to the point of neurosis. Standing looking, your face, your smile, lighting the other side of a room we once shared. Each step I take is a step nearer to the past, the future lies behind me. This is disorientation, a spinning top colliding into a room filled with mirrors. A reflection of chaos, as you surround yourself in serenity. I miss you so much.

(June 2004)

River Hunt