Of No Consequence to Me.

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Everything I Never Told You

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I’m removing you
from my life’s canvas.
The revision’s long overdue.
I’m tired of only speaking
to you through our eyes.
All I can feel now
is the strain.
I’m moving our sky back
until it is blank.
It was always
underpainted anyway.
I’m not sure how
to undo the hue of blue
that defines our shorelines.
Your kisses more addictive
than a half-off sale at Godiva.
I’m so tired of decadent chocolate
filled with empty calories
The promise of sweetness but
only tasting the bitter.
I’m ready to paint my life
in a soothing hue.
To find something solid
to hang my artwork on.
To find a fragrant of grace,
to rest in the background
of peace for a while.
I’m ready for lackadaisical afternoons,
the smell of magnolias,
a bed full of decadence,
sweet tea renderings.
You are no longer my concern.
You’re the novel
to be put…

View original post 77 more words

About AvatarNemo

V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valourous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V.

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