We reach a point where
all our night and daydreams
revolve around the things
we did rather than the things
we want to do, featuring the
person we used to be.

A remembered scrapbook of
Life already lived rather than
anticipated. An exercise in
Self-Absolution perhaps
sometimes dreamed in color.

Nothing is hidden

the mirror reveals a crack

guess who's looking back.

& the next time the wind blows that familiar scent,
Reminisce on the benevolence of what we once had,
The essence of what once was,
& the potential of what was left behind,
A time adrift.

Take me away,
To the brighter days where daylight trickles into the crevice of my despair,
To the sweet escape that lingers in the air,
Take me away,
For I am of this sphere no more,
I long for you as you play in the wind,
As you brighten universal hues of contentment,
I seek your benevolence.