Theres a part of us thats no longer here,
and one that never was.
but when you feel it,
it makes you ache.
for better or for worse.
Fades each day,
yet never goes away.
The ability to forget...
has been forgotten.
Bite me scratch me bruise me. leave your mark. Make me remember everything, every move we made.
My hands, you use to say they were perfect.
That I had perfect hands.
I wonder if you even noticed them before you left.
I see my hands everyday, but I never really look at them.
At least I havnt in years. But… Im looking at them now.
Time is showing, the texture is changing.
Fine lines cover my knuckles.
There seems to be more wrinkles where they bend.
They say you can tell someones age by their hands.
I wonder if it’s a fair representation.
I wonder if what my hands where to you, is what your lips are to me.
Soft, pink, plump, warm, delicate, perfect.
I wonder if Id recognize them. If in fact I were to ever see them again.
If we ever see each other again.
Our eyes looked so similar.
Like the same eyes on a different day.
They knew each other so well.
But I wonder if they would recognize each other now? Or later?
Somehow I don’t think so.
A change in shade, hue, fine lines, and wrinkles.
Lines of happiness and pain. Everything in between.
One just as indistinguishable as the other.
I wonder if itd be they cant, or wont want to recognize.
Or maybe theyd wish they had never forgotten.
Ill grit my teeth and bare your pain.
but you wont remember me.
all I was, this life, my tragedy.
a delicate balance, definition of fragility.
though planted feet I loose stability.
its hard to breath drowned in humility.
all the words I took for granted.
Even while trying I cant imagine.
I just want to say Im sorry.
lust on your lips and deception in your eyes. I follow to your tune words sung in lies.
indentations on your skin. slight discoloration. the truth is sinking in, like your nails along his back. the thoughts are breaking in. oh and if I could Id have given everything. just to make it end. the images in my head. I know its real and that enough for me. its just too much you see.
breathe that breath. Breath it for me. hold it in. let it out. the one I always wanted to take, but never could find it. One that would never come again. leaving a void in my chest. the exhaling sigh of relief. The stillness. The numbness. The crushing inner peace that comes with it. Realization. and with it the knowing that its all over. That it happened. And that itll never happen again. the meaning of what it was all worth. The feeling of all the worlds weight baring down on your chest. That moment of inner peace, now to only be remembered. and to be remembered as fleeting. to long for. To make you wish the chaos had never ended and your desire for that breath never realized. The reminder that life is short. For some suffrage is life. to suffer is to be holy. The only way one can feel the true joy of having, and the loss of losing. and in the end. Its all I have and have ever had. The end was written before the beginning. Realized too late. As I live breathing. There will be no salvation. Just a yearning for what was lost, or never was at all.
do you remember all the places we talked about?
they were all just dreams.