high school montage

four years.

four years my hand tilted sideways, a weapon supported by two fingers

frames capture each second, a light blinding in its victims eyes.

the recordings are of purity and authenticity,

the natural environment being the foundation of the love being presented

the bond created in that moment should be cared for,

but I don’t care for the moment itself.

instead of absorbing a room surrounded by green and white,

I brush past its decayed soul in a black room.

sometimes that capture moments of disgust during the eye contact.

the environment is instantaneously tainted and regretted

therefore, the enchantment is broken.

camera flash turns you away,

and I have neglected to ask why.

he did not understand back then. recently I didn’t until today.

a lack of social awareness and self-absorption was the fuel

a new modern age where discomfort is sprung from the electronic eye

you were never told, and never had a choice.

he is someone who I know I must rid.

so what am I to sacrifice?

the enriched entertainment glanced over in a six minute video,

or your right of privacy,

that when skewed, possibly ruins the moments themselves.

I feel I can only resolve to a mediated answer that I should have realized long ago.

simply asking if I should record.

sorry for not realizing this sooner.