a interesting post

We meet people and fall in love,
and we part they leave marks to remember them by.
Our lovers sculpt us, they define us,
For better or for worse.

Like a pinball they slam into us and rebound
in a different direction
prapeld by the contact.


And after the parting we might be scared.
The stronger or the more fragile or the needy, or angry, or guilty.
It's never unchanged

Our lovers linger inside us
like ghosts, haunting the corridors and deserted rooms
sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming.
visable...but always there...waiting.