i stepped away, i swore i did
i fled from folly
left behind the grid

i've grown, i've changed, i've faltered in time
yet i hear your echo, faintly but so prime

traces washed away by the sea
swept ashore, i fear i've found my key

🌊

you seem to linger in the smallest of things
the clink of a spoon, the stretch of my springs

you appear without a warning
a mist-woven maze
i always glance behind me
yet i still feel the haze

you seem to linger in the smallest of times
the trace of my skin, the bell that still chimes

you seem to linger in some part of my brain
everyone remains there
it's just like a chain

🐚

you seem to linger in the smallest of shows
the crunch of popcorn, the light that it throws

you seem to linger in the smallest of chapters
the flutter of a page, the book that still matters.

(what matters, really?)

does it matter that i'm a mix of all i'll ever know?

does it matter that their vestiges within me have seemed to promptly grow?

each soul, each part, each face i've seen

is a lesson, a reminder of what once had been

does it matter that i forget nothing, ever?
is it a blessing or a curse to remember forever?

does it matter that this form of poetry is the only way i dare?
to express the woe within my heart, tangled in despair

does it matter that my secrets spill and leak?
everywhere i go
to every corner that i speak

-

it doesn't matter who you are, or who you were to me,

a mind that won't rest holds your memory eternally