Memories fade
As fast as sugar dissolves in my tea
And I feel myself do absolutely nothing about it.
I'm caught inside myself, some deep, silver trance,
And I can't crawl out of it.
Because I see you leaving, with the storm,
And the clouds are dry heaving because they don't know what else to do.
Should I prepare my goodbye, or should I hold on tight,
To someone I hold dearly in my heart?
Stories are Stories,
And love is love, whether it's young or naive or both.
So if this is a novel,
A big detailed adventure, of my story and of my home,
How do I tell, if this chapter is long,
Or if it Is merely a page long?
I cannot tell, and neither can you,
So we are forced to sit on the frozen grass,
Remembering and forgetting the past,
And realizing nothing is sure.
So I plead to rest my words,
Silence my tongue,
Before the cold comes.