Failure

And failure hasn’t got the taste of sea salt with the darkness of closed doors. It is the cold in the spring with the rain at night. It is all that hurts and you can’t explain it. With a broken groan that is your soul dying. It is poison direct to the heart that leaves wounds in the chest and you can’t breathe. It is all the bad in you. It consumes you from bones to skin, until you are a forgetfulness of your imagination. And it stays in the flavour of your memories. It's what you mention when they say your name and the nightmares you dream of. It is what remains and it is not forgotten. It is a broken heart by oneself.

T.A.