Unsung heroes

You will always stay a memory wrought with mixed feelings -
The friend I would love to make yet am scared to,
The one I could one day choose to love because I instantly felt trust,
Instantly felt safe, though I wonder if your vocation has something to do with it;

Defense, front line against another war, you protect and you wear it like a cloak,
An unsung superhero, another face, another memory,
You will always stay a memory wrought with mixed feelings -
Of what might have been, of what I should have said,
Of what might have happened if we could let it,

And always, trust me, you will stay a memory -
Kin and family that I could not know -
Heaven or hell would be where we meet again -
I wish I could have known you more than I know now -
Like a friend and family, but now we could never know.

So you will always stay a memory wrought with mixed feelings
Because there are so many what if-s left still to wonder about.

Necrophiliac

I have become addicted to the smell of you.

What smell is that?

The smell of sweat, soil, cigarettes, yeast and warm rum.

...

It isn't an insult. That smell is like my personal stash of high... And now that you're not around anymore, I've created it for myself.

What?

I walk around in this old forest at the end of the lane, smoke a few and treat myself to a rum every morning sitting nearby this place. That's how I douse myself in the memories of you.

You shouldn't do that.

Oh, who are you now to tell me this? You're just a dead body in this old forest at the end of the lane from 2 weeks ago. I love you though.

...