Gone.

It's true that I left you in my mind. I left you on those same winter days, where everything seemed relevant and relational. I left you in the time when the look you gave me wasn't a lie but a promise. My mind is a fickle monster which, in itself, is a sham of a painted picture of false reality. I can only pick apart and dissect those pieces which you claim to be "absolute truths". Forget absolute truths and realities and illusions that you conjured up at my expense. My ABSOLUTE truth is the years that now have senseless meaning. What my reality is is but a ring around my finger I once wore to show your promise. Stuck is my mind in the spot where it wishes life could be or could have ever been. I'm tired of painting your mural on the city walls and running like the town crier from neighbor to neighbor. No more monuments will be built in your honor, nor will the sun be molded to be constructed as you. I won't see your name in the newspaper headlines or read about your daily travels on the internet. My sole memory of you will be the pain that courses through my veins and the shadow of doubt that creeps up when I meet a stranger. You left your mark, but in my mind I will keep you. You will be trapped just as my heart is.