Association (n):

an idea, image, or feeling suggested by
 or connected with something other than itself.

Association is beautiful.  

It feels warm and full.  It takes you back to bliss, and makes you crave it again.

Association is wistful.  

It feels familiar and dreamy.  It takes you back to what you forgot you loved, and makes you long for what is over.

Association spreads like flowers,
gracing memories with sweetness, promising a pleasant future.  
It is lovely.

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Association is painful.  

It feels violating and sharp.  It takes your warmth away, and makes you claw for new sensations to plaster over the regret.

Association is dangerous.

It feels reckless and bitter.  It takes contentment by its throat, and makes you compare what you know is good to what you used to think was.

Association spreads like a plague,
infecting your present thoughts, tainting them with the past.  It is toxic.  It licks maliciously, stretching forth to scorch what should be fresh and good.  

Memories don't disappear, but their sting and prominence can over time decline.  Truth and promises stamp out disease until finally, finally you can breathe again.


I am speaking truth to my toxic thoughts.  I am trying to overwrite associations.