I'm trying to write you out.
Not succeeding though.
They say catharsis is in the detail.
Not here.

How can I write you out?
I'm bleeding memories.
Every gelatinous image has a clear film.
Punctuating everything.

I toy with stopping.
But I can't.
This is a diary after all.
Nothing else here but pictures, songs, films, T.V programmes

All concerning you.
Simple reminders of shallow perfection.
Half want them to stop flashing.
Half don't.