It isn't as though no time has passed
Since the last moment that I heard
Your voice.
Time has come the way it usually does,
With rushing waves of seasons
And endless crawls through spaces
Dark and heavy with uncertainty.
I have made it
Have survived without you for all this
Time,
Just as I knew I would.
Time has taken my naive child self
And molded her into something
That I am not always quite certain of,
Yet am certain that she
Is
Real.
But time always returns me
To this place,
This space where I can do nothing but
Remember
Where I was,
What I was
Thinking,
Why I knew
How I knew
That you
Were the who I had to let go of
Too soon.
Time has healed me
But has also sealed me in this
Locked cage of wanting
What could have never been.
Each year
Each month
Each day
Each moment that passes
Amasses to more distance from that moment;
Forever cystalized amber.
The pain of your absence not forever etched
Into my skin
But cemented into my existence
Because now there is always a before
And an after.
Thought continues to dwell on you
Even when I know
It could be better spent
And makes more sense
When it can find something else
To occupy its
Time.
I have exhausted time
Beyond its means
To try to find some meaning to this,
Some word
Some phrase
To shine some rays of light
To give me hope. . .
And therein lies my sin
Because even after all the
Time that has past
I still have this seed
From some stubborn weed
That breeds within me.
Hope for things that will not come,
Hope to revive what has already gone.
I hoped for you.
I did not love,
But hoped only to love
One day
Some Time
Always.
But never came instead,
So time has left me
Grieving for the dead
Which has not fully died,
And has somehow kept me living.
I live with this,
Will always
Live
Because time does not die with our wounds,
Though it at times stands still.
I have not stood still,
But still have felt,
What was left since that
Time
When we left with our goodbyes.
