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Array
(
[sid] => 80206
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Waterfall
[time] => 2005-01-17 04:18:42
[hometext] => Memories are just that ... memories, sometimes best forgotten
[bodytext] => Despite the cold, alcohol brings warmth. Gazing into the shadows formed by the falling water. The path lights reflecting off the mist at the bottom, Vines creeping over the rock shelves, their elaborate mess so enticing. Together this night, sharing silent thoughts, Both in awe of the show nature has presented to them. The comfort of his presence at her side cannot be bought. The security of his silence, the intensity of her stare. At last the need grows, and slightly fuzzy, she turns to meet his smile. Shock sets in as her dream falters, leaving no one by her side. A whisper in her head grows louder and more urgent… “Just a memory” it tells her “Just a memory”. Déjà vu, could it be? It feels so real to her. Clutching her arms around herself, in vain against the cold. Frantically she searches her surroundings for any indication that she was not alone. But there is nothing, there is no one. And there was no one, it seems, in this lifetime. The alcohol that once brought warmth, now induces panic. Why is she on her own? It is dangerous The moon indicates the hour to be past midnight She looks for comfort again, in the serenity of the waterfall. This time the shadows play tricks, darting out in an attempt to consume her. The sounds of the creek, no longer appears soothing As it cannot be heard over the roar of the tiny fall. The ferocity of the waterfall serves but to further unnerve her. This mist no longer reflecting the path light, She looks over in time to see it flicker out. Her whole world disappears with the glow of the lamp. She stumbles backward, falling off the side of the path. The vines in the undergrowth no longer entices, They reach out and take hold. Screaming with terror and frustration, nearly overriding the screams from within her heart. She scrambles to her feet fighting off her fears. Tears burn lines of fire across her face, Blood flows from the embedded thorns in her hands and knees. Her drunken vision creates monsters that are not there, Monsters in her path, monsters in her dreams, monsters in her heart. And all the while she curses him for not being by her side, For being just a memory. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 176 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Katie-Kate [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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