Fabulous, a word for a certain triumphant pleasure.

Fantastic, another word for when I’m pleased with a success.

Each word triumphs my former ability to be pleased,

or more specifically it speaks of sorrow that once colored my landscapes

in indigo and grey…once cratered my mountains…once stole innocent giddy smiles.

But even in those fabulous, fantastic triumphs there are colors of pain.

A part of me wants to cast it all aware completely and get a whole new word

To eradicate the memories…

Would not I then forget how to triumph?

Originally posted on Wunderkindred on May 16 2011