PART ONE: The Expeditioner
PART ONE: THE EXPEDITIONER
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I dream of you in colors,
Whilst I live in black and white.
It is not my memories of you that hurt me.
I find solace there, though only temporary reprieve.
It is the memories unmade that hurt the most.
The conversations we will never have,
The time we will never spend.
It is tempting to linger there,
In those distant, vibrant moments.
Though it will never fully heal a broken heart,
Nor will it truly quell my watercolor tears.
-C.
Year One Hundred,
The Year of the Great Fracture
