Memorabilia

I know you’re reading this
The sense of tears
Softly soaking into the page
Tells me the future
I can see your left hand
Clenching the bottom left corner of the page
Trying to wring the last ounce of my essence
That last lingering sense of

Something

You will gasp as you feel my breath
Clawing at the back of your neck
The imagined hand placed on your shoulder
Seeming oh so real

The pain in your chest
As you ponder the memory
Of all my words
Dozens of volumes
Catches you off guard

As does my voice
And the knife poking through your ribs

© 2010, Mosquitobyte