The aftermath is what gets me
The remnants of
The picking up the pieces
How it is
two years later and I still am

I lost myself without realizing
after trying to move forward
I never made time to confront things
It took me months to notice that I had been missing

How do you get over
something you never really got over?

How do you move past
a moment thats still living in yours?

I tell myself it doesn't bother me
That I only remember when I lay in bed at night
Or walk for a while
Or think for too long
Or hear someone talk
Or breathe
I only remember
when I think I'm starting to forget

The mess I'm still sweeping
isn't a good enough story to tell.
It has yet to end.
I will be cleaning as long as I'm here,
I know this.
Two years later and I still am
I still am
I'm still here