I speak of something
held too close to let go,
Bound by threads
that pull and flow.
Thoughts of longing
the wounds that won't close
have become a part of me.
Yet I know, deep down,
this grip will never set me free.
Faint and silent, they follow,
the ones who bend to a quiet song
One by one, they fade, it’s a shame,
they couldn’t hold on long.
Behind our crossed words,
we hide what we won't show.
They've painted a white crow
Yet I reach, I try, I try to grow.
Relief that brings no rest,
the walls fall.
Memories pool where
once everything,
now, I can vaguely recall.
In pieces of what remains,
scattered in place
wind it back,
to moments we cannot chase.
Caged, meaning lost,
I closed my eyes as it slipped away.
Slowly, I drift further each day.
Into the deep, peace feels hollow,
The weight of it aches.
Still, I bear it, and I try,
whatever it takes.
