Conversations with Victoria

Dementia. Those days of blues and greys fading into black are waiting in anticipation just behind my back, gathering momentum before they swoop in to attack my equilibrium and dash and smash my days into the ground. Without a sound they rent the greys to shreds and blood is running red, red, red inside my head. Ribbons of silk and sorrow leaving no trace of who I am or where I've gone, as they erase and conquer the essential me at last. VS March 1 2016.