Time runs slow
between the then and now.
Memories keep the dead alive
but only in a half-life.
When they say “forever”,
they really mean it.
Even on days when it feels
like the wind should carry you back,
there is nothing
but the ghost of a feeling
that someone is gone
and I am left here
wondering why it feels
as though someone has shifted
every piece of furniture slightly to the right
making everything the same
but not really.
It comes in the dead of night,
on the sunniest day,
on the bleakest morning marred by rain.
A call of the soul, a bittersweet sound
reminding you that they are gone
and you are here.
You are alive--
breathing in the air
and carrying memories
both soft and sad,
but on better days,
happy.
Time moves so slow
and yet somedays
so fast.
Comments