being sick is akin to being thrown into a demented time portal.. transported back to all those other times when you were sick.. imbuing you with a surrealistic view point of the world.. a warp dimension where everything is surrounded by the fog of desires and lost opportunities.. a supernatural feeling of nostalgia that sweeps past the entire conscious and carries you away such that the only thing you can feel is the past

it is only then that i see your face.. in all its splendor and glory.. stripped away of all pretense and preconceptions.. it doesnt matter the faults that you possess.. the idiosyncrasies you manifest.. because only now.. you appear whole the way you were always supposed to be.. the person i imagined in my dreams..

as i waited by the junction for the cars to pass.. for the first time i contemplated dashing past.. walking in into certain death.. i imagined the sound of the cars smashing into the side of my car.. the piercing screech of tires on tarmac.. the impact of the hit.. the chaos that would ensue.. and the dark crimson blood that would gush forth from my head once it shatters the windscreen into a million tiny pieces.. a sordid scene i was not prepared to witness.. yet..

i have not seen you like this in a long time

deep scars never fade..

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