I am to be remembered as nothing more than wallpaper on your
desktop.
Initially, you were quite pleased with your selection. My aesthetic was complimentary,
perhaps; I seemed bold and iconic.
Nevertheless, I was far more defined than the factory settings, which
ultimately led to the marriage of copy and paste. That cemented my achievement in your world as a proclamation
of who you saw yourself to be.
Several thousand glances later, and I remain. The chaos of cluttered icons have begun
to dot our landscape. Our
shared experience becomes routine; eventually, altogether ignored. Instead of looking to me or at
me, you’re merely looking through.
Inevitably, you will look up from your keyboard and minimize
the world of distractions that have long since covered my image. You’re bound to discover that my
pixilation has begun to show. While all the other pictures in your life have
changed, I have been hidden, but remained the same. When the question of my existence arises, you will be unsure
of whether you have comfort or complacency to blame.
It is undeniable that you will forget what you ever saw in
the first place. I won’t blame
you. It is impossible for one to
observe the same image for every day in their life with the same regard to its
brilliance and sheen.
When you get around to it, the image will change. It is our destiny that I will be
neither observed nor ignored. I
will simply cease to be. Until
then, I remain; only one click away from a blank screen.
__________________________________________________
The first time I kissed you, I thought I’d never catch my
breath. I could taste the magic on
your tongue and you graciously denied the taste of acid on mine.
The last time I kissed you, you were already asleep. I hoped that you might stir, but you
let me walk out the room, gently mourning our collective loss.
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