Tinder

Can we go back to the beginning? He said as his fingers swiped right on the screen.

I can stop the lies, he claimed as he injected another dose of anesthesia into my veins.

Can you stop this and trust me? He asked as his tongue filled my ears with lies

I do want be with you.
I stopped.
I love you.
I am a good person.
I am a good person.

Back and forth from me to another
Names switching
Apps changing
Blame me for his hesitation
While typing yet more lies designed to impress another

If I decide to get back together with you I have to commit, he said
I need time to think, he said

Somehow all the responsibility of my pain gently pushed towards me to deal with.
Friends messaging from around the world exposing more and more lies. And he still continues.

Why is it so hard for you to stop lying to me? I ask.
His answer another lie.
The kind not worth repeating.
The kind not worth remembering.

Triggers

Dreams.
Smells.
Images.
Photos.
Food.
Bicycles.
Places.
Beaches.
Planes.
Memories.
People.
Voices.
Words.
Flashbacks.
Gifts.
Letters.

All these triggers bring me right back.
To where pain still pulsates.
To when love coarsed the veins.
To how it felt to be engulfed in your presence.
To what was. should have been, couldn’t be.
To the one who wanders about inside.
A home he has within the depth of the soul yet he lives the life of a drifter.
Walking the paths of the damp woods looking for something more.
Great plains turned into a desert.
Wild horses.
Butterfly emotions fluttering the pink skies.
Candle lit stars above my head.
Warm raindrops drizzle onto then into..
The heat of the moon – never quite enough.
Only lingering hope fills the void.
Footprints marks the road to follow to reunite.
Left only to be chased after. None towards I.
Back turned I walk.
Maybe someday.
Maybe.