[▶] for safekeeping.

image

sometimes I look at photos I've taken
and because I've gone through so many little cards
memories upon memories loaded into a tiny little chip
most of those of you are gone now.
tucked away in a little chip in a box in the cupboards
until I load them up again.

they still float around in the spaces online, though
those ambiguous platforms, the places where
you removed me from your life
but somehow we still coexist as mutuals in a collective space
far apart and never talking again

one of those photos (or two)
are just of your silhouette.
it's you, in the afternoon light of your house
(before you moved)
when we had to get together to write songs for the musical we were in together.
I still think about how ironic that is, and even a little funny.
how I wrote songs with the person I was slowly falling out of knowledge with.
you were holding your guitar. I penned the lyrics
and I somehow still feel as though sometimes
I can still see our ghosts, sitting by the piano clear as day
I feel like I've written about this before.

I just thought of it again because yesterday
I opened up to someone else again
and it gave me an opening to revisit you and the fading memories we had together
some still imprinted in my mind and burned in the backs of old films in my head
others clouded, misted over with
the sorrow of those many nights I spent
crying myself to sleep
so lonely that whole year. and it continued

there are things you never really know if you can heal from
because sometimes you don't get answers.
and those are the most difficult rivers to cross
because the cliff is steep and
it's not because you're alone, that'd be fine
it's because everything has shaken you so much
it feels like a single prick to your blood would send you
tipping over the edge
headfirst into swirling, toxic wastelands

I sometimes still remember that it's your birthday
and I shake my head and tell myself it's nothing to think about anymore
it got easier to not remember, but
I wish I could forget that fact entirely.

I am better now
but it's taken a while to slowly weave those threads
over the gaping hole you left somewhere in my systems
damaging my nerves and the ability to feel
I think its wonderful beginning to be able to feel again
but also, when you forget how to feel
(and I've told some friends this)
it feels overwhelming and scary rushing in all at once.
but I'll take a step at a time.
I don't know if I blame you anymore
but now the lingering senses are ones more of bittersweet notes
than grief and regret and anger.

a little bit forward at a time.
I will try to get better.