I wrote your vengeful words on a torn scrap of paper, folding it into four corners to hold in the strictures, then tucked it into an old, musty book. The one that sits on a high shelf, never read, just gathering dust and losing its memories.
Plaguing my weary mind, I muted their chittering demands for release. Hidden away, ignored but not forgotten, so the black germs of your contagion wouldn’t continue to infect my spirit.
I should have burnt your words, destroying each one forever. Still I hoard them, keeping them within reach, to someday return them back to you.
*Photo venue: The stacks at Niceville Library, Niceville, FL
Thin spiral notebook 
ignored but not forgotten, that’s a fantastic line. If only there was a tonic or a pill or maybe even the obliterate spell from Harry Potter that could take away those memories…alas, ignoring is what we’re left with and hoping that you can find the good in the experience.
I loved the idea of having them in a library away from you too..somewhere to always find them, but far enough away that they don’t “infect” your day continually.
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