'Til Dawn or The End of Time.

I used to have dreams of... Wait.
I used to have memories of...Wait.
I had a vision once of... Wait.
Okay, it could have been all three.
Or none of the above.

At my age... at my rage? At my behest?
It doesn't matter.
There was a girl there.
A Woman even.
Dark of hair, eyes dark, deep, and wet, like an ocean.
Or perhaps a pond.
My visions are cloudy. Or perhaps my dreams.

I'm no longer sure.
She had a scent about her.
Hard to describe. Harder to remember. Visualize?
Perhaps she smelled of a home. The warm scent of cookies wafting about her neck.
A scent of soft smiles and the pitter patter of little feet about the house.
Perhaps her scent smelled more like early morning in the temperate wild.
Dew, and the light tang of all night exertion. The wild scent of practicality, lust in nature.
The fight for day to day survival. The scent of doing whatever it took to see just one more morning.

But my mind wanders these days. I don't really remember.
Her lips though.
I think I can recall those.
They were full, upturned just a little in the softest of smiles.
At times, her teeth on them, just tugging a bit.
I swear, every time she spoke it was music, it was life, it was the song of the south.

No wait...

Perhaps it was always hate that escaped. Bitterness and vitriolic bile that spewed from that orifice.
Or maybe it was always lies. Two faces always behind those teeth.
I can never keep it straight anymore.
Well I should certainly remember what she was like inside.
Always warm, always caring.
So warm. Supple flesh, light kisses, always connecting on a level that could make me weep with happiness.
She was; breathing for the first time. She was; being born again. She was as vibrant and vital as sunlight.
She was the gentle nudge when needed, She was the strength that gave me strength. My backbone, my heart, my partner, my equal and my best friend.

No...

Maybe she was all crude oil and razor blades inside. A virus. Something that infected me, killed all immunities I had to everything corrupt. She was the boot on my neck, taking my breath. Turning me into something equally monstrous.
She was like radiation sickness. Burning me alive from the inside out, taking my strength and making me weep blood, a nuclear fire in my guts that destroyed me, body, mind and soul.
She was sour sweat, ferocity born of a malignant disdain for anything other than herself. Maybe in spite of herself. She was a rough tug and a vanishing act. The stench of cigarettes and a growing self hatred in my breast the only calling card she left.

Well... my mind is cloudy. Maybe she was none of the above. Maybe she was the War I saw? The only one I could ever love and hate at the same time. Maybe she was a character from a book? Maybe she never existed at all.
I'm never quite sure. My mind isn't as mindful as it used to be. Time seems to fly and take memories with it on wings of dreams.
Where did I put those memories? Or were they dreams? Maybe visions?
I'm never quite sure anymore. Everything seems to blend together these days...

Year 3

"Every cloud is grey, with dreams of yesterday."

So this is how 31 tastes... The same as last year. And the year before. The exterior at least matches the interior this year. So, that's a plus I guess. All I really wanted this year were some words. But that's what I want every year. Or answers. Or possibly for Justice to let me go to work with him. He guards the gate what holds the Ninjas.

"Every sky is blue, but not for me and you."

On the plus side, one of my friends promised me a sweet theme party at our (yeah, I said ours. So there.) local bar. So, that's sweet. At the moment though I'm at a loss for themes. Possibly broken, bitter, disillusioned soldier comes home to angrily drink whiskey sours. OR....Horny Animal Man unleashed in Portland to sow seed where ever he can. That's all I've got so far. OR maybe Tex Avery. I'm a big fan of Tex Avery.