Monday, January 11, 2010


They say time heals all wounds,
but how long must I wait for the sand to run out?
Now I have allowed every tick to control me,
and every tock to just lure me...
into some type of preservational cloud.
I've saved myself for healing,
reflecting on the constant memory of us...
Hoping that one day I'll wake up--
and not realize that you... were.... my everything.
See I've lost my everything;
hoping that my memory goes lost with it,
I resort to erasing the touch of your body by accumulating moments with others..
allowing myself to live for the give ins and sink ins of these carnal desires...
but regardless of how hard I attempt to erase you from my lips, or from my skin,
I'm left with a permanent inprint that does not allow me to forget--
regardless of how hard I scrub or how intensly he thrusts to erase you,

You're like a word that's been spoken and put to paper,
attempting to erase so I can start again--I fail.
every word is still seen on this paper,
every smudge has claimed it as its canvas
and I am exposed, still marked by you.
I've attempted to neglect you some how,
letting past pain lay somewhere way beneath my surface.
Supressing it to the point where I cover myself in blankets confusing tidal waves and light currents.
Those who have attempted to get beneath my covers have barely piereced my intentions.
We've stood by mirrors yet they see no reflection...and I'm lost in the moments, in the ticking and the tocking, in the quick sand in the hourglass only moving towards the bottom.
And I'm sinking while I'm waking to forget...that I loved you.

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