49. Abyss

Memories about you aren't replaced but simply lost in a black hole; an abyss, 

with more and more fragments pilling up one after the other, forming a heap.


Over time that heap has become a volcanic mountain, making even the first letter of your name or the faint smell of your hair lingering somewhere in the air to become a stimulus powerful enough to cause an eruption; 

one potent enough to stir up my dormant heart, tormenting my soul to run away from this abyss to the next. 


~ Rithin.

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