I sit in the shower without forgiven and need and lust and longing. The scars will never vanish. Never fade completely. But remind me of the torture o... trust, the fool who gives over. The emptiness that follows desire. All of it written in stitches across the scars and curves of fingerprints from homemade thread and sewn with the needles that were thrown at me. I say you must move on because the only way to live is for yourself. But the mirror doesn’t believe me. It remembers how he said he’d. We were acknowledging that we loved each other but our sessions had to stop however, we also knew it left a door open to future opportunity. This was the way we left it with each other when we parted. I let her leave ahead of me and I hung back in the room, took a shower, watched TV then left which assured I would be home tonight.When I got home who do you think was waiting for me, Amy. Her still having the key to my place was another thing I had forgotten about.She stopped me on the porch,. More

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