Monday, March 28, 2011


Going back
To sleep or to live
A dream

Strange in movement
And it never seems the way
It is so fondly remembered

Those moments will never be here again
And he'll never been the man I knew back then

A sad understanding
A calm contemplation

It's a hope
So small that the light flickers
On and off again

It will always live in my mind
A sacred space
A corner in my heart that I cleaned up
Just to store these times
These moments
These memories

Time is moving
No matter the resistance that I place against it
It's moving
And taking me

I hold firmly to sand
Slipping through my fingers
And I'm exhausted
But I'll hold on to you
At least in my dreams
In the few memories that have yet to be tainted
By the distance
By the apathy

The love
That I still hold for you

The last pieces of sand I hold onto
Sitting on my palm
Reminding me
Of where your hand used to sit
So perfectly

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