A mental wrestle
Thinking about us back then/
what we are not now

I never asked
for my hands to be caked in ash,
fists full of powdered, smothered memories
weigh me down like cages;
if you were to see my body,
cut apart, missing, coated
and preserved as a martyr,
like a body in Pompeii
trying to fight back the smoke.

I used to remember in images,
Movies, flipbooks, flying across my eyes,
But then I saw haze,
And the foggy screens became thicker,
So the grime and dust became darkness,
And through the darkness became words,
Disconnected, discolored, disjointed
Streams of words,
And so all my memories lost
Vision, became nothing but recalled statements,
So I could tell you yes it happened,
But how or why or what was sifted through a blender,
Chunked into a garbage disposal, and lost somewhere,
yes, the memory exists as a statement,
A declaration it occurred but oh so loosely,
You can’t be sure of it.

The breathtaking moments r the ones that count
The ones where time stops and your heart just wants to shout
Cherish the magic, and savour the beauty
For as suddenly as they happen
As unexpectedly can the world destroy them
Capture the laughter, and remember the love
That precious moment where your heart skips a beat
And u feel endless joy from your head to your feet
Hold on to that feeling
And never believe your heart is beyond healing
Your world may shatter
Your soul may darken
Fight these times, they're not what matter

The moments that count are the ones where time stops and your heart just wants to shout

You are the girl that sits with me,
the mirage of long blonde hair thrown over your shoulder,
Shoulders alittle too wide for your liking
But,
To me, perfect.
The perfect place to set my hand, or my head, or my words.
You kept them soft.
All of me, soft.
For moments.
For months.
For years.
It never ended, that spot on your shoulder,
The way I felt about it.
The way I feel about you.
You
are not that girl anymore.
And I
do not need a shoulder..
But the pillows still feel like you at night.
The brush you used to comb my hair with
still soothes me, even though the needles
have long been thrown away.

You don't understand.
And I wish you would.
Maybe if you knew,
You would return, just once.
Let me rest on your shoulder just one more time.
If anything, just to prove that the shape has changed.
That maybe your arms have been scarred with the ink of your husband's tattoos.
Or that they have become muscular with the weight of carrying your newborn son.
Maybe I could say goodbye, then,
If I could feel that they had changed,
And you along with it.
But I can't.
And you don't.
And my pillows still feel like you.

So
I fall asleep every night,
Still dreaming of your arms.

I can't change it.

Maybe one day
You

Will decide

To release me.

A flawless image,
Voice with nothing to correct,
And practiced fingers.

Staying up too late
With only you on my mind
You make me happy.

My forbidden love
The one I will not forget—
One I never had.