the inevitable

*nine

it was brief, really.
my heart had been spilled so long ago.
picking up what I had lost was a hard journey,
it was all about cleaning the mess I had made,
putting it away, and learning how to grow.
new chapters stacked on the old,
like old books long forgotten.
although I forget
it was a foolish decision,
but a decision nevertheless.
like opening a reality once so familiar,
only blurry memories,
and a sense of longing linger.
something that had consumed me.
every inch of my being;
had now been abandoned and stagnant.
I had so much to give.
looking down at my empty hands,
I asked myself
where did it go?
what I had so eagerly carried?
All I see are rough hands,
a feeling of something missing,
a confused state of mind.
it isn't an empty feeling, but a loss.
appreciation for the experiences behind me,
mourning for what should have been
and what will become.