memories and rambling...

memories and ramblings.

My love for you is rooted in memories.

And I’ve often wondered if they’ll fade with time?

We have.

It all seems so long ago…

Sometimes I ask myself if they feel the same as when we made them.

Asking myself if they are as real as the empty void I have left.

A gaping hole taunted with memories of everything we had

I read old letters and look at pictures

Things seemed so different then.

Both guided by what was in our hearts, ruled by feeling and need.

We both were different then.

Me, in my innocence and willingness to be swept away by you.

You’ve seen the very part of me no one else has seen.

Vulnerability, unguarded, unconditional willingness to love and be loved back.

The look in your eyes has always been so peaceful.

A saving grace when the reality of this world is too much for me to bare

So willing to gaze me at ease.

My ego wonders if the price we paid was worth it.

We swam in many rivers fighting currents and our fears.

Many voices of concern and mocking what we attempted to make work

And here we are today…

So separate, so distant…

And yet while you look back with fondness in your reveries of our past,

I can’t seem to let the feelings and memories go...

I use to think it was you, grasping

…at the only pieces of myself

left open…and available…

Now I realize it’s been my soul clutching

To you…my escape from loneliness.

My love…

Things are so confusing now...

And these memories…

Are like ghosts haunting my heart and thoughts.

Pointing out my missteps, reflections, future and my need for a happier present.

And it’s so easy getting lost in you…my happy place

My most peaceful state…

The scent of you still lingers like heavy hearts and my heart bound like hands

Clutching to keep reality at bay

I think about the words that left me then, which I speak in silence that

My love grows still and always, and these, my memories

count passing days hoping to manifest in flesh…again.

An original poem written about a year ago, reworked and edited, like all my writing is still and probably will always will be a work in progress.

Jesuis Aime'

(image: details to come)